A liminal space refers to a space that is transitory, connecting one place to another like a hallway or a staircase. The term can refer to physical spaces, but also transitory life stages. They are the connectors between the before and the after. They are temporary, and generally not places someone would dwell or exist in other than to get to where they are going. Folks on the internet describe liminal spaces as eerie but also nostalgic. Simultaneously foreign and familiar. Unsettling, but also dreamlike. Déjà vu.
This term has stuck with me because I find myself in a liminal space in my life. Feeling untethered to many old ways of being, but not yet fully settled into the new. It feels like walking down a long, long hallway with many doors leading to many new destinations but I linger in the hallway instead of walking through one of the doors. Not really by choice, I am still trying to figure out which of the doors will open and lead me somewhere worthwhile. I find myself somewhat hopelessly just waiting to not feel like I am the hallway anymore, but maybe what I need to do settle in a look around a little in this space. Afterall, life in general is a sort of liminal space. From cradle to grave, what we call life is just the transitory period in between. One long walk down a beautiful hallway, with art and decoration, occasionally a door leading to another room of the Hallway of Life.
I don’t think I will always feel as “in between” as I do right now. Life pushed me out of one room and back into the hallway, but honestly that room was feeling stuffy and heavy anyway. So I am going to take in this hallway, run through it, maybe peek into some doors and see which ones are inviting and comfortable. A lot can happen in a hallway.