One instant is eternity;
eternity is the now.
When you see through this one instant,
you see through the one who sees.
Wu-Men
With one foot outside the front door, I look toward the horizon. Her quiet presence feels like an invitation to pause and honor the timeless gift of coming and going. Within the pause, I take in the potency of the eternal continuum of thresholds. My little moment of pausing in the doorsill is greeted by a larger and unending threshold – the daily transition between light and darkness, as the sun seemingly melts into the horizon.
The birds and clouds in the sky are boldly announcing this transition. There is a burst of sound as the birds settle into their nighttime silence. As though announcing that they have gone mostly unnoticed throughout the daylight, the clouds confidently cast aside their daytime attire. Slowly, they morph between colorful whisps and billows, and even into winged, almost angelic, beings that swoop and swirl across the sky.
Like energetic children before sleep, the clouds are in no hurry to end their poetic playfulness. Unlike my usual transition through one door to another, their transition will be slow. Gradually, they will move through the phases of twilight, and their colors and forms will fearlessly fade into the rich depth of the nighttime sky. They will still be there, and will be readily made visible through the return of the morning glow of the sun.
The clouds offer insight into the rhythmic essence hidden with the longest lasting thresholds of existence. Always in the background of the hustle and bustle of human activity, the thresholds continue – the tides ebb and flow, the moon waxes and wanes, and the breath rises and recedes. And, almost at a lumbering pace, the seasons gradually blossom into full darkness and light, aka winter and summer.
Life itself is a threshold between birth and death. And, within each life there is a continual flow of thresholds. My hope is to become increasingly aware of the loving fullness of the liminality of life. I hope you will join me.
Practice
This practice offers awareness of receiving and releasing.
Prepare—
- Find a comfortable seated position, e.g., on a chair, the floor.
- If on a chair, allow the soles of your feet to rest on the surface beneath you.
- Gently squeeze one hand in the other
- Slowly make a fist and then stretch evenly through your fingers.
- Shake out through your hands and wrists, relaxing your forearms.
- Sigh a few times, letting go through your breath. Then, sit quietly for a few moments, allowing your breath to be free and easy.
Practice—
- Seated, rest your right hand wherever it is comfortable, e.g., on your thigh, and keep it relaxed throughout the rest of the practice.
- Allow the back of your left forearm to rest on your left thigh. Your left palm is relaxed and open toward the sky. Invite your entire left shoulder, arm, hand, and fingers to relax and soften. Breathe a few breaths.
- Slowly guide your left forearm forward on your thigh, so that your hand relaxes with the palm open and fingers relaxing downward toward the earth. Again, release tension throughout your left side. If needed, adjust your seated position to support the sense of relaxation and softness throughout your left arm and open hands.
- Invite a sense of letting go of unbeneficial habits, feelings, or ideas you might be clinging to. Imagine as though the earth’s natural intelligence and capacity is able to receive and slowly compost whatever you release. Breathe with an open hand for as long as is comfortable for you.
- Invite in a sense of being supported by love from the earth beneath you, from the space around and above your, and from the inner and outer sun. Imagine you are being embraced and enfolded in love. Allow your open hand to receive this love. And, as you do so, allow it to seep into every pore of your palm, into the tissues of your palm, and then travel upward into your left wrist, arm, shoulder into your heart. Breathe freely, receiving love and allowing love to settle into the spaces you created by letting go.
- If you wish, repeat this with a focus on your right palm, forearm and right side. Otherwise, continue.
- After a few breaths, gently give yourself a hug. Perhaps offer a silent prayer of self-forgiveness.
- (Note: this practice is for the normal everyday ways we are hard on ourselves. It is not designed as substitute for professional support in working through deeper hurts and wounds.)
Transition Back into Your Day—
- Sit quietly for a few moments, with the eyes and ears tuned inward.
Place your hands over your heart and pause for a moment. - When you are ready, return to your day.
This poem appears in Mala of the Heart: 108 Sacred Poems, page 80, edited by Ravi Nathwani and Kate Vogt and published by New World Library. The practice is from an earlier post also entitled “Sunset.” H E A R T H is posted each new and full moon. KateVogt©2025.
