You're in between.
Between who you were and who you'll become. Between the old life and the new one. Between before and after.
This space has a name: liminal. From the Latin word for threshold.
The threshold space
Liminal spaces are thresholds.
Not the room you left. Not the room you're entering. The doorway itself.
Hallways. Airports. The time between sleeping and waking. The weeks between jobs. The months between relationships.
These are liminal spaces.
Why they're uncomfortable
Liminal spaces are uncomfortable because nothing is settled.
The old identity doesn't fit anymore, but the new one hasn't formed. You're not who you were, but you're not yet who you'll be.
The ground is unstable. The landmarks are missing.
Why they're powerful
But liminal spaces are also where transformation happens.
The caterpillar in the cocoon is in a liminal space. It's no longer a caterpillar, not yet a butterfly. In between, it's liquid—completely unformed.
That's where the metamorphosis occurs.
The temptation to rush
When we're in liminal space, we want to get out.
To have an identity again. To know who we are. To stand on solid ground.
We rush to the next thing. Define ourselves too quickly. Close the uncertainty before it's done teaching us.
The invitation to stay
What if you stayed in the liminal space a bit longer?
Not forever. But long enough to let it work on you. Long enough to see what wants to emerge.
The discomfort isn't a sign you're doing it wrong. It's a sign that transformation is happening.
What the threshold offers
In the threshold space:
Questions are more valuable than answers. Not knowing is more honest than premature certainty. Possibility is still open.
The liminal space offers freedom—before the new identity calcifies, you can still become many things.
If you're there now
If you're in a liminal space right now:
You're not lost. You're transforming.
The disorientation is appropriate. The uncertainty is part of it. The not-knowing is the work.
Stay. Listen. Let the threshold do its work.
What's trying to emerge?
The liminal space is where you become.
Not before it. Not after it. In it.
The threshold is uncomfortable. But it's also sacred. It's where the old falls away and the new is born.
You're not stuck.
You're becoming.