Can you give up your name and at the same time embrace it harder than you ever have before?

 

Liminal, between, neither one nor the other. 

This is where ritual takes you.

 A step away from the physical world, but not quite a dream.

 

Hand your name to the figure at the gate and cross the threshold.

But without that word which calls you, listen to the music of who you really are.

And repeat it.

The gods can hear you better when you sing this music.

And they listen.

And they listen.

 

Liminal, nameless, you are named.

In between, where the roads reach the edges of the universe, you are created and learn to create.

With a voice that belongs to you and to the gods.

They take your hands and bring your mouth to yawn wide revealing one of the many secrets of world in between.

 

You spin the wheel, the fibers slipping slowly through your fingers, settling on the spindle, storied with the sounds of the circle.

The colors blend.

You are lost,

and found.

Nameless and Named.

 

You remember your name.

Shocked back, a step closer to the solid.

Opening your eyes, breathing heavily.

Sweat and breath claim your existence here.

 

Walk to the threshold.

Don’t take your name back.

Remember it but don’t take it back.

Add it to the song you sang in between.

And hold onto it harder than ever before.