Crossing Thresholds: How We Know It’s Time to Begin Again

There’s a moment before every new beginning that feels like standing at a doorway…one foot rooted in the familiar, the other already sensing the shift.

That in-between space has always fascinated me. It’s not quite ending, not yet beginning. It’s the pause before the page turns, the quiet breath before the music swells.

I’ve felt that space often lately. Maybe it’s because of the upcoming trip to Scotland, or maybe it’s because The Harbinger continues to ripple outward, opening new paths. Either way, I can feel that sense of threshold; a gentle, unmistakable hum that says, it’s time to begin again.

Thresholds come in many forms. Sometimes they’re physical - airports, new cities, doors we’re brave enough to walk through. Sometimes they’re emotional - moments of clarity, forgiveness, or courage. And sometimes, they’re spiritual - the deep knowing that something is about to shift, even if we can’t yet name what it is.

In The Harbinger, my characters cross more than one threshold. They walk between centuries, between faith and doubt, between reason and magic. Each time, they must trust that the unknown will meet them halfway.

That’s what I’m leaning into. Preparation can only take us so far. At some point, we have to step through.

Whether it’s a new story, a creative leap, or a long-awaited journey, the threshold always asks the same question: will you carry the old world with you? Or, will you leave space for the new one to emerge?

For me, that answer comes not in logic, but in energy. When something begins to feel lighter, warmer, more inevitable…that’s when I know it’s time.

Maybe that’s true for you too. Maybe something in your world is asking to begin again.

If so, here’s your sign: the door is open.