the death of DMX shook me.
shook me in a way I am still trying to unravel.
his life.
his pain.
his searching.
his faith.
his longing.
his funeral over the weekend . . .
those who spoke
the songs
his daughter’s song
in recent days memories of a friend who committed suicide a year ago have been with me . . .
when i think about DMX
as i try to work through why i am so shaken
as i remember my friend
one lingering thought in my mind is the liminal space
the liminal time
i am thinking about the tension
about the ambiguousness of this space/time
how so many fall through during this time
in my mother tongue this space is best described as:
you are not in the meat, neither are you on the skin
you are nowhere
in no man’s land
unnamed zone
mostly alone
mostly misunderstood
mostly confused
i also have in mind the Nazarene
the one hang on a wooden cross
the one who held the tension of the liminal space
the one between “if you were . . .” and “i know that you are . . .”
i think about Mary
Mary the mother of the Nazarene
i think about the tension she held since the angel showed up
tension she may never have really broken through
tension that she most likely battled alone
tension that had her at the foot of a roman cross
tension that had her looking up to her crucified son
the liminal space
the liminal time
such a dangerous place
yet such a life giving space
a place of death
a place of life
a place of palpable tension
a place of bursting out
a space filed with wounded souls
a space filled with dead bodies
a space of great sorrow
a place of great anguish
a place of reckoning
St. John of the Cross
St. Theresa of Avila
Rahab the Harlot
Hagar the Maidservant
Jochebed mother of Moses
Mary Magdalene
Mary the mother of Jesus
my ancestors of path and nurture
be with me at this time
stay with me through the unravelling
Jesus of Nazareth
you who held up the tension of the liminal space
held it to your own death
stay with me
be with me
