Liminality: Between One Stage and the Next
Liminality feels like time stops. It is a place of emptiness, devoid of context, surreal in its stillness. In these moments, reality feels altered, identity slips away, and a sense of unease creeps in. It is a space marked by anxiety, vulnerability, and ambiguity, yet it can also bring about nostalgia, comfort, or ease. Liminality is, at its core, about possibility.
This concept of liminality, first developed in the field of anthropology, refers to a state of transition between one stage and the next, especially during significant life changes or rites of passage. The term itself comes from the Latin word "limen," meaning threshold—a point or place of entering or beginning. In a general sense, liminality represents an in-between period, typically marked by uncertainty. It is the time between what was and what comes next—a place of transition, a season of waiting, and not knowing.
Liminal spaces, whether physical or mental, are where transformation occurs. As author and Franciscan friar Richard Rohr describes, these are the spaces where we find ourselves "betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown." Here, our old world is left behind, and we are not yet certain of the new existence awaiting us. Rohr encourages us to embrace these spaces, suggesting that genuine newness can begin in this sacred space where the old world falls apart and a bigger, more profound reality is revealed. Without encountering these liminal spaces in our lives, we risk idealizing normalcy, missing out on the potential for growth and change.
There are three distinct stages to the experience of being liminal: separation, liminality, and incorporation. In the first stage, separation, individuals detach from their previous state or identity, moving away from the known and familiar. Next, in the liminal stage, they find themselves in a transitional space, neither here nor there, navigating the uncertainty and ambiguity of being in-between. Finally, in the incorporation stage, they re-enter society, transformed, and re-integrate into a new identity or state of being.
Stillness comes to all things, and liminality is like existing in a dream, hovering between sleep and reality. It is as if the destination has been removed, leaving only the liminal—the threshold. In this state, traditions, rules, and safeguards melt away. The familiar becomes unfamiliar, and the world takes on an eerie, haunting quality. It is an empty yet beautiful space filled with a sense of dread, where freedom meets the fear that this state of in-betweenness might never end.
The allure of liminality lies in its duality: the uncanny nostalgia of a place we have never been yet somehow remember, and the promise of transitioning into something new and unknown. It is a place where we are on the verge of something significant, where the possibilities are endless if only we allow ourselves to wait and let the experience transform us.
In embracing liminal spaces, we step into a state where we can shed our old selves, confront our fears, and explore new potentials. Whether we encounter these spaces in the physical world—such as the eerie quiet of an abandoned building, the stillness of a deserted street at dawn, or the fading grandeur of a place like the Nelson House Hotel—or within our minds, we must learn to recognize and value these moments of liminality. They are, after all, the thresholds through which true transformation and genuine newness can emerge.
Shadybrook Mall/Columbia Mall.