Connective Tissue

What lies in between one resting place and another?

The cracks in the pavement, the weeds and wild flowers, the detritus left by other walkers. Or perhaps the space between each breath.

Spring is threshold work. Crossing from one threshold to another. Each threshold a quickening as Spring brings new life. The temptation is to rush from one to another, pay attention only to each resting place. But what lies in between? This is the connective tissue, the pathways that link place to place, inhale to exhale, the liminal spaces.

“The experiencing body… is not a self-enclosed object, but an open, incomplete entity. This openness is evident in the arrangement of the senses: I have these multiple ways of encountering and exploring the world-listening with my ears, touching with my skin, seeing with my eyes, tasting with my tongue, smelling with my nose — and all of these various powers or pathways continually open outward from the perceiving body, like different paths diverging from a forest.” (Abram, 1996)