The Power of The Liminal

How honouring the in-between can be a doorway to sovereignty

‘...Stand Still. The forest knows 

Where you are.  You must let it find you.’ 

This is a passage out of David Wagoner’s poem, Lost.  The kindness of these words arrived at a time in my life when I was deep in what I like to call, ‘The Winter of my Soul’.  It had been a deeply uncomfortable period of humiliation. A period which was now going on three years.  Having spent a considerable amount of this time at the start trying to coax a new chapter of my life into existence with great urgency, these words brought enormous relief. And I took them literally. I relinquished the hurried need to complete the indomitable task of returning to the world reassembled. And instead, I sat lost in a liminal space, trusting that the forest would find me.

Betwixt and between

The word Liminal is derived from the Latin word ‘Limen’- meaning threshold or to cross over.  To be in a liminal space is to be in the in-between.  Liminal times and spaces are universal and not only evident in the human experience. They form an intrinsic part of our journey through life. If one was feeling overtly philosophical, one might even conjecture that from the moment we are conceived we are in one continual liminal space, always becoming, always on the verge. But for the purposes of this story, ‘one’ is going to keep to the notion that there are specific times in our lives when we are more in-between than others. When we have left one destination, and not yet arrived at the next.  

For women these are biological; we go through adolescence, for some of us we fall pregnant, we experience perimenopause. They are also relational; when we get engaged, some of us separate, children leave home, we take on the role of carer.  And then there are existential; changes in career, changes in what we value, and even change in who we are. What is common across these is that this period of transition is often challenging, there is an element of the unknown, they can carry a sense of grief. And, we all, no matter who we are, experience them in one form or another and at some point in our lives. They are part of the circle of life. 

Societies need to problem solve on speed

Unfortunately for us, much like winter, liminal times in this day and age have been given a bad rap. Society experiences them as uncomfortable, inconvenient and something we must push through and try not to acknowledge. The notion of precious time for one to hibernate, be still, to pause, to reflect, has been stripped away. Our values have shifted. The sacredness of time has been replaced with the economic opportunity of time. Time is of the essence in everything we do. The fear of being left behind or missing out has the culture of urgency thriving, whilst going slow, taking our time or doing ‘nothing’ is a dilemma to be solved, not a necessary state of being to embrace. And the thing about inhabiting liminal spaces, is it almost certainly requires time.

An explicit example of this is women traversing midlife, where several liminal events often converge. Each woman’s experience of this period is nuanced and the changes that unfold are individual to her. But it is a time of metamorphosis, both physically and psychologically.  It can also be a time of spiritual transformation. Historically, when we reached this threshold, the space would be held tenderly for the transformation to unfold. We would sit in our cocoons, honouring what was as it dissolved, and paying reverence to what was emerging. Mother nature called to us and we responded by spending time in her company. Great care was taken to protect this season of change, as it would usher in a return the age of the Queen. 

But alas, we just don’t have time for this. Instead, today we use words like grit and resilience as mechanisms for manipulation. We are offered quick fixes and sold the latest protocol to implement, or strategy for solving our ‘symptoms’. ‘Don’t you know the economy stands to lose if you don’t hurry through’. ‘We must get you back to the high functioning, economic engine you were before this ‘inconvenience’ arrived’. Now is not the time to fallow. Now is not the time to step away from or pause your career. And, now is definitely not the time to find out who you are. 

If we dare think about taking our time, or slowing down, centuries of social programming arrives on cue to pathologise our condition, ‘this is not normal, there must be something wrong.’ Or depositing just the right amount of guilt for not being a productive contributor to society, and reminding us that our old friend - worth - has to be earned.  We are not entitled to step away from the world, to sit in-between, or acknowledge this time for the profound, sacred initiation it is. Perhaps we should.

A Rite of Passage 

In 1908 Arnold van Gennep published a book called The Rites of Passage, in which he specifically identified the liminal space as one of three subcategories of initiation; Separation, Merge (Liminal), and Incorporation. His philosophical claim, "Man's life resembles nature, from which neither the individual nor the society stands independent. The universe itself is governed by a periodicity which has repercussions on human life, with stages and transitions, movements forward, and periods of relative inactivity,” highlighted the fact that it was a universal phenomenon to experience periods of nothingness, which often gave way to periods of fecundity.

Then in 1969 Victor Turner, building on the work of van Gennep, published a book called The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. In it he emphasised the power of the in-between, or what he called ‘Liminality’. In this state of ambiguity he believed creativity, and indeed social change, would arise. This was not just a transition, but a becoming. People going through this process, left behind old social roles they had inhabited, and emerged with a new sense of identity and what he called ‘communitas’, for they often unfolded in community, and established a new relationality with others experiencing the same transformation. 

Winter pruning

Whilst Van Gennep and Turner may have contributed to our modern day understanding of liminal spaces, in truth the story of descent and the liminal is as old as time. For our Ancestors, it was recognised as a necessary process for us to fulfill our purpose and imbue our lives with meaning. The person’s unravelling was welcomed, they could let go knowing they would be held. It was a privilege to traverse this terrain and the community would rally around to ensure that the sacred process unfolded as it was ordained to. They did so, not only for the benefit of the person undergoing the transformation, but because they knew that it would ultimately benefit the community as well. 

Inanna, one of the oldest stories in recorded human history, sees the Queen of the Earth descend to meet with her sister Ereshkigal, Queen of the underworld.  To make the descent Inanna must pass through seven gates, and at each gate she must give up something - her crown, her ring, her robe - until she is stripped bare. At each gate she asks, ‘Why?’ And the response comes, ‘Quiet Inanna. The ways of the underworld are perfect. They may not be questioned.’ Finally, she meets the Queen of the Underworld, who swiftly kills her, and leaves her body to hang on a hook for three days (this is an exquisitely visceral image of the liminal). After some gentle convincing Ereshkigal allows her resurrection. As Inanna lets go of what no longer serves her and integration of the newly reacquainted parts of her Self hold fast. She emerges as a sovereign Queen.* 

There are many more of these myths and stories that have been told over millennia. They sit across gender, across timelines, across cosmologies. Each sees the protagonist called to the liminal, they suffer a humiliation, they lose parts of themselves, they find parts of themselves, there is struggle, it takes time. But they emerge with an integrated psyche and newly formed sense of Self.  

*I realise I have not done this myth the justice it deserves by compacting it into a paragraph, I highly recommend you spend quality time in these myths and stories, if you feel called to do so.

A universal offering

As I embraced my unravelling and viewed it as a rite of passage, my perspective changed. I enlisted the guidance of other liminal residents and spent copious amounts of time in nature. I became comfortable in my proverbial nakedness. I began to welcome the unknown, and appreciate it for the playground of possibilities it was. Over time, guilt and anxiety left the building and in their place a reverence for solitude and simplicity took seat. I sat with questions and I noticed that the more I engaged with trust the less I needed to know the answer. Certainty had made way for wonder. I still didn’t know what I wanted to do in the world exactly. But I had formed some clarity in how I wanted to live and confidence in who I was becoming. I started to inhabit integrity with ease.

Liminality is more than part of the universal order of life. It is a profound gift, if we choose to accept it. How we choose to engage with it can be seen as a reflection of how we choose to honour our life and that of the world around us. It can transform how we imbue meaning in our lives. It is the potent precursor to societal change, change that is ripe with the potential of a coherent society. When we take the time to embrace our own descent, and are courageous enough to trust the process of stripping away and letting go, we open space for the wonder of who we truly are to arrive. We find that worth was born with us, it was never something to be earned.  In this way we may view a new horizon of how we want our life to unfold, and truly contemplate Mary Oliver’s poignant question:

‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do 

with your one wild and precious life?’

If you are traversing a liminal space, or have emerged from one, I would love to spend time hearing about your season, so please get in touch. I wrote a few poems about my time in the Liminal.  I invite you to read 'A Soul’s Winter' here, and 'The Season of Humility' here.