Embracing The Liminal Spaces
When I was a kid, I used to have this recurring dream where I was walking through the woods, and the air around me seemed thick, and I felt like I was moving in slow motion as I walked. The colors around me were so vivid and bright, and it took a lot of effort to focus on the path I was on as a result. And sometimes, there were people in the dream speaking to me, and I could hear their voices but couldn't make out what they were saying or where they were exactly. All that mattered in the dream was the thickness, the color, and the feeling of moving through the woods, breathing in the scent of pine and flowers, and feeling the leaves and pine needles crunch beneath my feet. It was such a vivid dream that I can still recall it today as if I just dreamed it. That dream instilled in me a love for spaces where I could feel hints of it in my waking reality. I've always referred to those spaces as "thin places," where the distance between this world and some other real