on liminality and the practice of teaching
Somatic learning (embodiment) unfolds in a liminal territory between inner and outer awareness. It is a process of re-patterning, of loosening and unlearning habitual ways of being that no longer fully support us. This untying is a subtle choreography, gently dismantling the knots that have held the illusion of a stable self in place. As new perception emerges, it releases me from being bound solely to the past. For a moment, the self arrives in the immediacy of lived experience, meeting itself in the present.
Such moments can be life-altering, or they may leave quiet yet enduring traces in the body-mind, functioning as compasses, lighthouses, anchors. There is profound beauty in these encounters. And yet, a common misstep is to mistake them for “the work” itself, or worse, for “the answer.” The next experience will be different. The self flickers on, disrupting our longing for something fixed, conclusive, repeatable.
One of my most beloved, and most oft-repeated, metaphors is the reminder not to confuse the finger with the moon. My words as I teach, are the finger; the moon lies elsewhere. The language arises from having witnessed the moonlight trembling on the surface of water, from being moved and reshaped by that encounter. But they are not the moon. The moon always remains just beyond full grasp. Still, as my own body recognizes the ripples of that experience, something begins to move within the relational field shared with students. I find my way there barefoot and blind, alongside others - feeling grass underfoot, brushing against sharp stones and fallen sticks - guided by the moon’s gravitational pull.
And then, suddenly, light borrowed from the blazing sun floods everything. It seeps into the creases and hollows of my fluid being. The “I” is not separate from the moon.
It never was.
Eventually, daylight arrives. The moon dissolves back into the vastness of the sky.
My task remains simple: to keep walking, to keep walking, to keep walking.
Satu Palokangas © 2024
