On Thresholds of Initiation
Moving through a Threshold of Initiation is the lived experience of crossing into the next version of yourself.
A Threshold is the space between who you have been and who you are becoming. The act of honoring your Thresholds of Initiation is not necessarily about forward motion or upward achievement. It is about receiving a new relationship with life. With your voice. With your role. With your own creative power.
Most of us have been taught to treat change as a to-do list.
We look for step-by-step guidance, linear timelines, and predictable outcomes. We want the clarity before we begin. But real thresholds don’t work that way. Real thresholds are not neat. They are sacred. They are confusing, disorienting, fertile. They ask something of us. They require a kind of presence and courage that can’t be planned for. You don’t always know you’re in one until you realize you can’t go back.
Thresholds of initiation are moments when something in your life asks you to become more of yourself. And not in the performative, polished, well-branded way. In the quiet, raw, identity-shedding way. They are invitations to walk differently. To choose differently. To no longer abandon the parts of you that have been waiting to lead. These thresholds don’t arrive with announcement. They don’t care if you feel ready. They arrive as ruptures. As invitations. As a slow undoing of what no longer resonates.
This is the difference between linear change and spiral-based becoming.
Linear change says: do more, be better, level up.
Spiral-based becoming says: descend, listen, compost, rise.
It honors the cyclical nature of growth. It doesn’t force clarity. It lets clarity emerge through embodiment, through grief, through staying with what’s real. When we live in the spiralic way, we expect to revisit old stories with new eyes. We expect to shed layers over and over. We trust that deep change is not about becoming someone new, it’s about becoming more wholly ourselves.
So many people are walking through thresholds of initiation without realizing it.
Maybe you’re trying to launch something but can’t seem to find the words. Maybe your old creative rhythm no longer fits and you keep questioning your value because you don’t feel productive. Maybe you’ve outgrown a way of working, but feel too foggy to define the new way. These are not problems to fix. These are signs that you’re in the threshold. That you’re being invited to slow down, to listen, to integrate before you act.
Thresholds may come disguised as personal unravelings. The end of a collaboration. A pivot in your business. A chronic health flare-up that forces you to move at a new pace. A new offering that requires a version of you you haven’t fully stepped into yet. These are all initiatory experiences. They are not setbacks, they are invitations.
We need language for these moments. We need structure that honors what they actually are.
Because without it, we collapse. We abandon the process just before the wisdom and juice lands. We perform stability instead of learning how to hold and be with the change. We look for shortcuts when what’s being asked is reverence. Rites of passage give us this structure. They help us witness that the change is not just circumstantial, it’s internal. They help us mark these moments as holy and sacred versus something to hide or bypass.
To be in a threshold is to be in the in-between place of not who you were and not yet who you are becoming.
This space is sacred. It’s not meant to be rushed. It’s meant to be honored. Held. Walked with. And when you let yourself walk it fully, the becoming that happens on the other side is not just more alive in your body, it feels more honest, more true.
