To Be On A Threshold

growth & harvest

We sometimes feel a disquiet that, if investigated, disrupts our life (or organization). There’s something gravitational about that tug, even when we don’t yet fully know what it means. Following the pull of something puzzling and alive is not to be confused with being impulsive or reckless. In my experience at least, it feels really different than “f**k around and find out.” 

Said investigation and disruption is easier said than done and not without consequences, like heartbreak, being wrong, and disappointing people—some of the things many of us dread above all. It is also the stuff of growth, adventure, and meeting the unknown with a little more courage. 

Following a wholehearted “yes” can be as messy as the change that drags you kicking and screaming. Whatever the call, the cost of staying put eventually becomes greater than the fear of change. Sometimes circumstance forces our hand. Myths, epics, and legends from around the world all involve “the threshold” because you can’t leave home without stepping over it.1 You also can’t move through changing seasons of your life (or organizational change) without stepping over it. At least not without extra suffering (no one wants to be shoved or dragged through).

John O’Donohue wrote one of my favorite descriptions of thresholds:2 

To cross a threshold is to leave behind the husk and arrive at the grain. 

Threshing—the process of separating a seed from its husk—is the only way to harvest certain crops. To harvest what is threshed is not a passive process either; there is labor in gathering, and, no matter what, the plant that supported the grain must die.3 

Threshing takes nerve. On a tough day, not facing a threshold we feel coming sounds like a relief. In the context of the developmental and organizational work I do, the husks are the stories and identities that don’t quite fit anymore, and the grains are the outcomes and selves that want to emerge. 

There can be grief in leaving the husk that’s protected us and excitement and fear over the newness of the grain. The grain is often not something we asked for, or even thought we wanted. Either way, it’s the result of the conditions, good and bad, that made its ripening inevitable. 

The discomfort of threshing comes up a lot in my conversations with leaders and organizations who are experiencing a transition through internal shifts, external pressures, or both. The feeling that something doesn’t quite fit anymore starts to grow. Something that used to work well enough stops producing desired results, what used to feel satisfying is no longer quite doing it. 

Those feelings are emerging awarenesses that something is changing, and our current ways of coping are reaching the limits of their effectiveness. Awareness usually invites us to leave our comfort zone, or else keep bumping into familiar patterns in confusion and frustration. My favorite default human reactions to this discomfort:

If that [thing/person] would just change [in x way] everything would be better/go back to the way it was.4

What’s wrong with me? Why is [this thing/situation] suddenly not feeling right anymore? Am I losing it?5

These come up in client conversations, and I have thought them myself. There can be truth to these thoughts: sometimes circumstances and people suck and distancing/removing ourselves is the right thing to do, or there might be something going on with us that affects our mood, judgement, and personality (e.g., mental and physical health). Most of the time though, there’s at least one small thing we can do to soften our orientation to our discomfort and get more curious. There’s wiggle room there. 

We develop inner critics during formative contexts, like childhood, and they, along with our egos, protect themselves at any cost.6 The belief that we’re broken or not responsible for our own thoughts and behavior is one of the ways they keep us stuck. If we are broken and not responsible for ourselves, it means we don’t have to change, and in some ways, that’s easier. Changing a pattern, situation, or life is opting in to the unknown, even on the smallest scale. 

Sometimes the weight of that agency feels scarier than change caused by things we can’t control, because the only person to blame if things go awry is ourselves. Which brings me back to thresholds. Whether or not one believes that that “going home again” is possible, we never cross a familiar threshold as the same person we were when we last stepped through it. We step back in changed, regardless. What we choose to do with insight is up to us. 

Part of my work is to support clients to navigate all of this with more ease. Or, if you like, less internal resistance and self flagellation. Leaving familiar territory inherently means we might wobble at first. It’s evolutionarily hardwired to be a little scared of the unknown, and smart and healthy to question our own motives. 

Complex situations will always feel tangly, but that is manageable (promise). The ability to make our thoughts and beliefs object, examine them, then make a conscious choice accordingly helps.7 Learning to hold our identities (i.e., the stories we tell about ourselves) lightly never hurts either. 

There are partners that can help us as we develop our ability to do these things, whether they’re coaches or someone closer to home. They’ll be glad to lend a hand when harvesting feels overwhelming, or when we want joyful accompaniment. So, with the knowledge that support is always out there:

What might it look like to step through your current threshold(s) with more faith in yourself?

Please muse and share (privately, if you prefer)!

-Cheyenne

photo: a threshold in Bryce Canyon Nat’l Park, Utah, May 2025

  1. re: “The Hero’s Journey” from Hero with A Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell; Others that are feminine centric: The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdock; The Heroine with 1,001 Faces by Maria Tatar; Ripening by Sharon Blackie; Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés. All these works speak to patterns and archetypes that shape us through the experiences we share and the stories we tell. “Crossing the threshold” is one of them. ↩︎
  2. Walking in Wonder: Eternal Wisdom for a Modern World by John O’Donohue ↩︎
  3. Or go dormant, if you want to be literal. Plants are the neatest. In any case, there’s a cycle and no plant has mature seeds forever! ↩︎
  4. In our monkey brains, familiarity is often preferable to the unknown. Comfort zones can be wildly uncomfortable, even damaging, and still feel “safer” than change. ↩︎
  5. Maybe, but the question is an invitation to explore the feeling all the same. “Losing it” a few times (to date) has pointed me towards a different “it” also worth having. Eventually… 🙂 ↩︎
  6. Inner critic work through developmental coaching doesn’t cross into therapy territory, though some therapists do work with them, too. What we can do in a coaching relationship is acknowledge them, explore where they might come from, and begin to characterize them. One of my favorite books on the subject is Better Days by Neal Allen. ↩︎
  7. With ourselves and others. And assuming we’re not using our awareness nefariously. ↩︎

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