Postcard Club Story Behind the Art: Thresholds
- Jess Lackey
- Dec 31
- 5 min read
Updated: Jun 4
"Nearly everyone has a tipping point in their life. A mile marker in their pavement of existence that very clearly establishes a before and an after; a very blatant and purpose-full shift in their timeline. For me, 2018 resides as that mile marker."
Thresholds is comprised of at least seven photos that I’ve taken. I snapped the main photo of the cholla cactus field in April of 2018 at Joshua Tree National Park. I recall having a sense of unease on the trail. I had read warnings about not deviating from the path. Known as “jumping cholla,” the cacti is notorious for its thick, barbed spines that easily detach and painfully embed into the skin and fur of those who brush against them, even with the lightest touch. Walking through the dense cholla felt a little like walking through a warning. “Beware,” the cholla whispered.
In the timeline of my existence, there is before 2018 and there is after. My life felt like it was finally falling into place. I was saying yes to everything, meeting new people and fully embracing deeper spiritual connection.
Then, later that summer, I organized a hike for a local women’s group I was leading. A friend suggested we stop at a hidden medicine wheel she knew about along the path of the hike. She offered to guide us in a meditation there. I excitedly agreed. We ventured off the trail to a clearing where stones were carefully arranged in a circle, and lines of rocks radiated outward like spokes on a wheel. I had never seen anything like it before.
It was a sacred and powerful place. We gathered around, leaving offerings of crystals, flowers, feathers, trinkets, anything we had on hand that felt meaningful.
One woman, who I hadn’t met before, slowly pulled a long, golden ponytail of hair out of her backpack, the middle tied neatly with a ribbon. She held it tenderly as she told us her story, how years ago she prayed to Kali to burn away everything in her life that no longer served her.
I would later learn that Kali is a Hindu goddess that represents the raw power of Mother Nature, all at once nurturing, devouring and fiercely protecting those who call upon her. Often depicted with blood-smeared lips and wearing a garland of skulls, her fearsome image is the result of the evil she consumes for those she loves and protects.
The woman explained that after praying to Kali Ma, her life quickly and unexpectedly upended. She lost a close family member and was diagnosed with an illness, the treatments for which were strenuous and taxing on her body. She told us of how her hair, at one time waist-long, began to fall out in clumps and how the ponytail was a testament to her survival of that chapter in her life.
But then she spoke of her life in that moment in time, there at the medicine wheel, and in the most poignant way, she connected all of the dots of her hardships to growth and opportunity, deeper connection to the Universe, and to gifts that she now shared with the world. She offered the ponytail back to the Earth in gratitude to Kali Ma for creating the path she was on now, for making it all possible, despite the pain she endured.
Her story was so powerful and I was in awe of her strength. If I’m being honest, I longed to feel as spiritually connected as she was. I too wanted gifts to share with the world. Mesmerized by the story and feeling overly confident in my trust of the Universe, I naively prayed to Kali Ma during the meditation. I was ready, I thought. I had full faith. I had already overcome some of the deepest traumas I could imagine. My life was stable, I was in a safe place. I could take it.
The meditation concluded, the hike ended, and I continued living as I had before.
Within one month, my life unraveled in ways I couldn’t have foreseen, and it would continue to do so for years to follow. Relationships ended and codependencies formed. I lost my brother. I fought with my mom for the first time, really, ever. I underwent an intense therapy program that is, to date, the hardest thing I have ever done.
It felt like jumping chollas sprung up at every step, deeply embedding their barbed spikes into my life, like a minefield of altering events that rippled in their wake. I was at a threshold, a great shift in my timeline. The exit seemed so far away, and at times, nonexistent. And yet the only way out was through.
I can’t say exactly when, but somehow, my skin thickened and my heart softened at the same time. And the chollas still jumped, but they began to dig in less deeply. In some ways, I’m still alchemizing from that year and all that followed, only now the barbs feel more slender. I’ve grown more able to pull them out without ripping my flesh.
Looking back, it all feels like a dream. Like some story I get to tell because now, six years later, that is what it is; a story I get to tell. I navigated a minefield of proverbial jumping chollas and though it hurts in some ways to say, I am grateful. I walked through a fire field of cacti and it burned and ripped away everything that was not meant for me.
After I write this, I will call my mom, because I talk to her every day. I will look at my partner of two years with the utmost gratitude but I will do so without the weight of trauma, fear or dependency. I will connect with my brother in meditation and in nature and I will cry tears of love and joy when he sends me the signs I ask of him. I will text his son, my nephew, whom I’ve grown closer to over the last year. And I will make art out of love for cholla fields with the intention that it sparks hope and community and compassion and support for one another.
This piece is a testament to our strength, a reminder that we can do hard things (as two of my dear friends often remind me) even when they feel impossible. At every threshold, a new world awaits, but it is one that we alone create. Ravens fly above symbolizing transformation, spiritual awakening and divine wisdom.
May the hard things you endure create a path to thresholds where you bravely and beautifully step into a reality curated just for you, and by only you.
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