Between dog and wolf . . .

In Odin’s mailbox this morning . . .

Members of The Writers Guild of America are staging Hollywood’s first strike in 15 years.

Today is the 111th anniversary of the birth of May Sarton, in 1912 Wondelgem, Belgium.

That selfhood which is our torment and our treasure and our humanity does not endure. It changes, it is gone, a wave on the sea. Would you have the sea grow still and the tides cease, to save one wave, to save yourself? Would you give up the craft of your hands and the passion of your heart, and the light of sunrise and sunset, to buy safety for yourself, safety forever? – Ursa Le Guin, in her novel The Farthest Shore.

Entre chien et loup, is a French term literally translated as “between dog and wolf. “ The metaphor, used by shepherds and photographers , describe a specific time of day, just before night, when the light is so dim you can't distinguish a dog from a wolf. It also expresses that limit between the familiar, the comfortable versus the unknown and the dangerous (or between the domestic and the wild). It is an uncertain threshold also referred to as liminal space. Threshold in latin is limin.

The eddies of the Watercourse Way provide liminal space.

Liminal space is an inner state and sometimes an outer situation where we can begin to think and act in new ways. It is where we are betwixt and between, in transition, having left one room or stage of life but not yet entered the next. We usually enter liminal space when our former way of being is challenged or changed . . . The very vulnerability and openness of liminal space allows room for something genuinely new to happen. . . so-called normalcy is called into creative question. – Richard Rohr

"You choose to be a novelist, but you're chosen to be a poet. This is a gift and it's a tremendous responsibility. You have to be willing to give something terribly intimate and secret of yourself to the world and not care, because you have to believe that what you have to say is important enough." – May Sarton