The Mother of All Liminal Spaces

“A liminal space, then, is a period in which something (social hierarchy, culture, belief, tradition, identity, etc.) has been dissolved and a new thing has not yet emerged to take its place. It’s that period of uncertainty, ambiguity, restlessness, fear, discomfort, and anguish. It’s the space between, when a trapeze artist let’s go of one swing and doesn’t yet know whether she’ll be able to reach the other swing. There is nothing shallow about liminal space.”

            “Holding Liminal Space” by Heather Plett, August 22, 2016

As actor and chief morale cheerleader Leslie Jordan used to say, “Well, shit. What are y’all doing?”  I don’t know about you, but I have been everything in quick succession multiple times a day.  Dumbfounded, but not surprised.  Fearful yet full of strength and purpose.  Sad to the marrow and full of righteous rage.  Determined and despondent.  But mostly I have been trying to find the ground below my feet.  Something solid to stand on so I can figure out not so much what happened to humanity, but about what to do next. 

Here is the thing.  There is no ground.  There never was. There were scaffolding and planks, boardwalks and catwalks, aisle and paths, roadways and byways.  All built by humankind to give us a sense of purpose and structure.  Leading us to specific destinations or endless circles.  Defined by the values, resources, and needs of the ruling class.  We each created our own connection to the scaffolding in order to find a sense of stability and groundedness.  And it gave us much needed comfort…until it didn’t. 

Buddhists talk of “groundlessness” or impermanence—that everything is change and fluid.  That we fall through the air expecting to hit the ground only to realize that there is no ground.  Right now, we are all falling—no, we are HURTLING—through space trying to find solid ground.  Frantically reaching for reason, rationality, and meaning.  We are in the mother of all liminal spaces. 

Who are we going to be? Have racism, misogyny, classism, religious nationalism, and all forms of hatred permanently won?  Or do they just make the most noise in the liminal space right now as they try to cling to a false ground of whiteness, maleness, wealth, and power that cannot be sustained?

Or are we, as a species, ultimately transitioning to a new way of being? A place of seeing the interconnectedness of all things and a need to take care of the planet and of each other.  A place of equality and equity. And maybe this recent power tantrum has to happen in order to finally topple the old systems. I hope so.  In my better moments I believe this in my marrow.  When I search for the non-existent ground, I panic and fear the worst.

What can we do in the liminal space? How can we use this time to redirect our work?  Writer Nicole Gulotta blogged about how to move through liminal space as part of the pandemic era.  She defined four pillars of work in liminal space as 1) recognizing and making space for grief; 2) adopting new schedules and routines; 3) being comfortable with discomfort (or at least trying to be); and 4) re-entry: considering a post-liminal space experience.  I believe that the pillars still deeply matter.

Grief is not only key to being in liminal space, it is a critical part of our work to come.  Grief will teach us what needs to be released in order to make space for new and better.  It isn’t that we were wrong and need to give up hope.  It is that we need to make space for the feelings of the road looking different than we imagined.  We need to make space for the pain, both our own and that of all those we love who now feel in very real danger.  Grief is the rain that washes away the layers of layers of residue and helps us to start again.  We don’t need to be stuck there.  We need to roll with its waves and welcome it as a teacher.

New schedules and routines for me now gets changed to new ways of seeing each other and working together.  We have to let go of the illusions and delusions.  We need to look for the beacons of light that lead us to community and connection.  We need to put up our antennas and become a beacon for others.  We need to work differently—deeply, fundamentally, and honestly.

Being comfortable with discomfort is about accepting the groundlessness.  I do not know that any of us ever become comfortable with the sensation of hurtling through space, but we can welcome it as another teacher.  It is discomfort that is our signal for where there is work to be done. 

Re-entry…I do not know what this will look like and where we are heading to.  But I do know that for me, after this brief period of hibernation, it is about re-entering the mission with purpose, strength, and as much acceptance of groundlessness as I can muster.  I will try to not be afraid of the dark and to be a spark of light for others.  I will try to fly with my wings spread wide.  What will you do?

As Danny Concannon, a character on The West Wing, said, “So... if I'm going to jump off the cliff - and you're going to get pushed off the cliff - why don't we hold hands on the way down?” Look for me in the liminal space.  Let’s hold hands on the way down.