Tiny droplets of rain are falling onto my face as I’m rushing from one train station to another while making my way to The Alchemist’s Kitchen, a Soho cafe that houses the perfect matcha latte. The raindrops start to feel heavier and I silently curse myself for not checking the weather before leaving home. No one wants to be stuck drifting through Midtown New York in a 40 degree drizzle with no umbrella and freshly blown out hair. I accidentally step into a puddle and my sneakers soak up what I hope was just rainwater. Sometimes in the city you just never know, especially in the chaos that persists until the holidays are over. I feel so much unease in this moment and I try counting each step I take just to disassociate and make the time go be faster. Thinking of time (my favorite thing to think about), I can’t recall the last time I was caught in a predicament like this. Every choice I’ve made in the recent past had been for my ideal comfort. I’d been living in the comfort of known experiences for so long that I couldn’t even fathom walking in the rain. Thinking of time led me to think of liminal spaces, and how this exact moment in time where I’m neither here nor there but questioning my existence within the confines of a threshold was exactly what I needed to realize the mundanity I had become accustomed to. I arrived to my hot matcha latte, took a sip and began to navigate what it means to occupy a liminal space.
To start off with the basics, the word “Liminal” comes from the latin word limen, which refers to a threshold of a physiological or psychological response. A liminal space describes a state of mind, a place in existence, or a condition of transition classifying the time between what has already occurred and what is next. This transitionary period is an empty vessel we fill with uncertainty of the future while waiting for transformation to take place.
The days between Christmas and the New Year have always felt liminal to me. So have the days after the New Year, especially the idea of going back to work as if we didn’t just live the last month ignoring all real responsibilities. Some people might even say that the days mesh into one gridlock of a fever dream and we succumb to this abstract understanding of time where it doesn’t feel “real” as it usually does. Edgar Rice Burroughs, famous American fiction novelist famous for writing the Tarzan series, wrote “We are, all of us, creatures of habit, and when the seeming necessity for schooling ourselves in new ways ceases to exist, we fall naturally and easily in the manner and customs which long usage has implanted ineradicably within us.” When we fail to challenge ourselves, our very nature is to follow a set of routines on auto-pilot just so we can continue existing within the confines of this social contract. English philosopher and political theorist Thomas Hobbes argued in his rendition of the Social Contract Theory, humans will subjugate themselves to an agreed upon set of laws to live in peace. I’ll write more of this in future articles because I think It’s important to explore how this contract is enforced and how well we do when adhering to a sovereign. In order for us to not regress toward former unevolved states of being, liminal experiences are necessary to be felt. When we experience these pockets of eeriness where we are uncertain of whats to come, we must avoid seeking the solace of preprogrammed ways of operating and learn how to lean into the disillusionment until it becomes clear.
Leaning into disillusion is unnatural to the stasis of our makeup since it begs us to give the mystery a chance. It asks us to stare directly into pitch blackness and turn on the light within our hearts to see clearly so when the road ahead finally clears, we are able to pursue it steadfast with a more fervent gnosis. Being neither here nor there, but always in the right place can feel as if you’re being suspended in the air so high up that you cannot even see the safety net below that’s willing to catch you when you fall. Indeed you’ll fall, as we all do but the trusting of your intuition and following it as an inner guide will be the ultimate reward.
Now what about those that live in a constant state of liminality? They’ve built homes on fertile land and planted trees that grant wishes at the turn of every season. Embracing the unknowing and welcoming it into our homes reinforces the inner guidance system we all have within us. The trust that I feel for the future is the same trust that you feel for yours and the fear that I feel for the future is the same fear that you feel for yours. The eeriness persists when we’re not embracing nameless spaces because we prefer not to live in the unpredictability. To know a place is to give it a name, and to give it a name means you’re defining it. What happens when you make a home out of a place with no name? The challenge of searching for it’s name is where true growth occurs.
In the everlasting paradox of liminality; we must wade through waters far from the shores of safety to have a chance to seek the unknown and trust that the water you’re walking on will eventually turn into land and provide shelter. Navigating this paradox is never easy no matter how many times we experience it. So what can you do in times of dire confusion when you feel as if your soul is being pulled between two defined spaces? You go within.
Here’s how:
Spending time alone. Frequent walks in nature counting the leaves on every tree and saying hi to every bird that flies over your head serve as a reminder of how small we really are. Our worries that exist within this time space continuum that is deeply specific to us, are rather minuscule when compared to the grand scheme of life. We may think that we have it all under control, but the birds and the bees and the skies up above teach us that we’re free when we surrender control to the Almighty.
Sitting in silence. An active mind is a confused mind. When we fail to let our brains rest from ruminating thoughts and self-imposed fears, we become prone to letting what exists only within the confines of our deepest insecurities control our external realities. A consistent meditation practice may feel as if you’re putting in work with no direct results but on the contrary, the inner work is happening with every second you spend learning to control the frequency of negative thoughts and our reactivity to situations outside of our control.
Journaling. The act of putting pen to paper and transferring the thoughts that arrive in a liminal state of mind can pave the way for deciphering moments of turmoil while also lighting sparks of creativity. A consistent journaling practice is a continuous love letter being written to yourself. What’s better than pouring self-love and intention into your crafts when you’re unsure of what’s to come?
I’m a firm believer that you’re never in the wrong place and it’s never the wrong time. Our actions, choices, and thoughts bring us to exactly where we need to be at every point in our lives. As we welcome in 2024, we must hold these moments of contention to a high regard. The transitionary period between closing out the old year and welcoming in the new holds liminal power within physical and metaphorical states. May we continue to gracefully exist within the parameters of every threshold and enfold the metamorphosis with open arms.
"Is it still a journey if there is no destination? I don’t care where we're going, just promise me you'll take me with no hesitation"
Strong insights. Looking forward to more. And sorry you got caught in the rain!