Are You Living in Liminality?

I am learning to be at peace in an unknown space.

I’ve been in a strange place for the last six months—a place in the middle, of waiting between beginnings and endings. Until a couple of weeks ago, I had no name for this space, but now I know. It is a place known as liminality.

We all know the meaning of subliminal; that existence below the level of consciousness.

Remember a couple of decades back when people worried about subliminal messages? Liminal is the point just above that threshold, and liminality is being aware you’re in that strange hinterland betwixt and between here and there.

I was watching a webinar with the Modern Elder Academy, a fascinating place. The speaker described midlife as a time of liminality; I knew it was the word I needed.

Reframing Transitions. Some of our transitions are personal and voluntary. Others are external and involuntary. Midlife is filled with more transitions than any other time of life. How are you preparing to master this change?—Modern Elder Academy home page.

I’ve been learning not to rush through life.

It’s June now, and back in December, I decided to move more than 2,000 miles from four of my grown children and their spouses, along with seven of my grandchildren. I adore all of these people and am very attached to them.

In fact, for the last fifty years, I’ve never lived more than a few miles from one or another of my five children and their families.

Possibly? A delayed empty-nest syndrome?

Maybe, but they are my favorite people in the world, and I’ve been privileged to work with them and be geographically close.

They’re all doing well, and they don’t need me as they did when they were young. And fortunately, I’m in a well and healthy space and don’t need assistance at this stage of my life, either.

But I needed these six months to process my feelings about this significant life change.

Metamorphosis takes time.

I’m excited about moving to a gorgeous island in the Pacific Northwest. Living near my beloved siblings, nieces, a nephew, and some of their children will be fantastic.

Since selling the farm I loved and lived on a couple of years ago, I’ve been a misplaced countrywoman languishing in an apartment. And if I stayed near Austin, Texas, I’d be forever in an apartment due to the high cost of housing there.

In my new location, I can hike, garden, enjoy the outdoors—and live in a house.

But moving away from my children is the most challenging transition I’ve ever made, and it could not be rushed. Instead, I needed time to grieve, rejoice, and spend as much time as possible with each person—hoarding precious memories for the future.

What is liminality?

The word liminality comes from the Latin word līmen, meaning “a threshold”.

It’s used in anthropology to refer to a rite of passage when a person no longer is in the previous pre-ritual state, but they’ve not begun the transition to the new status they’ll hold post-ritual. So, that person can be considered standing at the threshold during the liminal stage.

Many societies still have rituals and celebrations for many major human life changes. Think of bar and bat mitzvahs, quinceañeras, and bachelor parties, to name a few.

When I was younger, I wanted to have a croning ceremony post-menopause to celebrate becoming a wise elder. So maybe that’s what I’ll do.

We all need to take time for change and ask for support.

Far too many times in life, I’ve hidden my feelings and prided myself on being tough. Now I realize how unhealthy that was. We need to take time for all the feels, acknowledge when things are tough, and realize change is challenging.

I ceremoniously closed the door as I left my Texas apartment and was thankful for its refuge during the years of COVID.

When I arrive in my new home, I’ll ask my loved ones near and far to join me in a celebration of acknowledgment in my new abode.

Of course, family is arriving from Texas in July and August—who wouldn’t want to leave the heat and humidity for the cool forests of the northwest? And I’ll be back down south in the winter. I can’t imagine the courage and strength of those who left homelands to sail to unknown lands, unlikely ever to see their loved ones again. I’m not that brave.

But I want to be bold enough to step through doors when they open, embrace life, and stretch myself whenever possible.

What about you? Would you like more celebrations to mark the transitions in life, including the middle? Please—share your thoughts.

Cindy is writing a memoir of her adventures growing up on a homestead in Alaska, farming in the southwest, owning bookstores, etc. Access exclusive family photos here.