Crossing Thresholds

I recently read a piece that explained why we forget what we want to do when we go from one room to another. It's because we cross a threshold. I don't remember now where I read this or what the explanation for this phenomon is. I do remember thinking how interesting this is. (I do now wonder why people study these kinds of things.)

This has set me to thinking about thresholds. There are the ordinary door thresholds - even if they are painted red. Then there are the not so "ordinary" thresholds. First is conception and then birth. We cross from non-being into being with all that entails. This threshold is marked every year as a birthday, a change in age. Somehow various cultures decide that a certain age is a threshold, such as thirteen for bar or bat mitzvahs. In the US, sixteen for driving, eighteen for voting, and twenty-one for for being able to drink hard liquor. 

We mark the crossing of thresholds when someone graduates from school. When we retire from working. These are the ones that I can think of off-hand. I'm sure that you can point out more. Each of these are meant to mark a change in someone's life circumstances. 

The last threshold to be crossed is death. In American culture, the discussion of death is almost taboo. You don't talk about it in polite society. Some people don't want to make a will or create an estate plan because it means thinking and talking about death. 

Yet, in the work that I do, when someone asks about a deceased loved one, the answers almost always talk about the loved one was escorted across this threshold. I hope to hold onto that so that I don't fear the final threshold for this lifetime of mine. I want to be able to welcome crossing this last threshold.