As one year comes to a close, and we begin to enter a new year, we can feel that sense of urgency to rush into the next thing. I have jokingly but truthfully said that Jay-Z’s anthem “On To The Next One,” had been the theme song of my life more than once. But this rush to move to what is next can often mean we do not fully complete where we are, allowing lessons and wisdom to be integrated.  

 

The rushing and hurriedness to get out of, get over, reach beyond what is not liked, uncomfortable, what now seems boring or pointless, or whatever other story we bring is most often showing us where our survival self still has the power. Our survival self was activated in that first moment where we could not find completion, resolution, or safety. So false motivators and numbing mechanisms moved into our subconscious to “help” us on our journey through life. And with these patterns of our survival self, we unconsciously bring with us the baggage of our past. We do not wish to be carrying all the stuff, but we have not been allowed to come to completion. Our reasoning says we need to just get on with it into the next thing. And all that heaviness is either being stuffed inside you or formed into some wonky golem you will feel is chasing you. In our effort to get out of our discomfort, we leave the tabs open like on our internet browser and hope that the software can just upgrade around them.

 

I shared my thoughts about this getting on with it to a friend, and she nodded, “yep, it is always the before and after pictures, never how we got there. Nobody wants to talk about the in-between.”

 

I do. I very much do want to talk about it. I teach about it. It might even be said I harp on about it. But my friend’s comment reminded me why I am so very committed to my process of letting go of Jay-Z’s voice in my head and finding the quiet symphony of stillness and silence in my heart.

 

So what if we approach change from another perspective?

What if there was something between the ending and the next beginning?

What if we might enter the liminal, the space between where we are neither here nor there?

 

When we open to the liminal, time slows down. In this slowness, we can re-center ourselves. We can allow ourselves to take stock and close down some of those extra open tabs. We can begin to see what has our survival self on alert and find ways to soothe and nourish. We can meet the subconscious fear and release its hold. We can celebrate what we are letting go of and what we have gone through. We can dissolve the constraints of living in our old story and make purposeful, intentional choices about what new story we want to inhabit. When we are clear in how we will proceed as we cross the threshold into the unknown, we can more fully embody that as we return to our regularly scheduled programming.

 

The liminal is a place that many of us avoid because we find the demands of surrender and release too extensive and extreme. When our life is built upon ignoring and suppressing the inner world and sustaining ourselves through the chaos and pressures of the outside world, the idea of slowing, especially as we approach the perceived finish line is ludicrous. Why slow and feel more of the discomfort? Why would I want to meet and feel fear? I’m good; I’ve made it this far. I just need to push through and cross that line.

 

But then what? Because all the discomfort and fear are coming right along with me.

 

The liminal is necessarily and purposefully discombobulating and disorienting. And in a year that has been nothing but discombobulating and disorienting, maybe you are finally ready to catalyze the power of that.

 

We find ourselves stretched open in a new way through the disorientation that comes through surrender.  The story we have about ourselves gets discombobulated when what we have been clinging to is let go. All of this allows a space, a pocket of potential to open up within you. This little nugget is a treasure trove where the question switches from ‘what do I have to do next’ and unfolds into curiosity. ‘How I might want to feel, or what I might want to see or even taste?’ Here, as the clock slows, the shell of being good or needing to be right begins to crack, and you remember that you have indeed always been enough. You also recognize that, of course, you have made some missteps, you are, after all, human, and this is simply the process. Here in the pocket of discombobulation and disorientation, you begin to breathe, not just to sustain life but in honor of life. And the life force flows in. And the nourishment begins.

 

In my years of practicing with and guiding my clients into the liminal, I have learned some tools for entering, exiting, and supporting this work. I share them as a reference and inspiration. There is never a right way to do this type of process. It merely takes a willingness to begin and the nerve to know that you are more mystery than matter. 

 

Here are my top 4:

1. Create a little bit of a bubble by demarking the time you are designating as liminal:

Whether that is 10 minutes, two hours, or six days, it doesn’t matter whatever works for your life is fine, but to claim it, to name it, to declare to the universe, this is my liminal space, this is my liminal time! Mark the beginning and end of that time, somehow, whether that’s by dinging a bell, setting a timer on your phone, allowing music to enter and exit. You could also lift your hands while twirling about and say, “open,” and then reverse the spin at the end and say “close.” There are a million ways you could denote and demark your liminal space. Make it fun and personal. 

 

2. Shift the focus through environmental cues:

Allow the environment and your interactions to shift to support the liminal experience of time and space. Perhaps you dim the lights or only use candlelight when you are in the liminal space. Perhaps there is no TV or only certain types of viewings. Maybe you take a break from reading or watching the news. Maybe you turn the ringer off on your phone or the notifications off on your email. You might prepare food ahead of time or clear your schedule from other obligations. You don’t have to be a hermit, but you can create a retreat mindset and allow your environment to fully support your choice to be in the liminal.

 

3. Do practices that guide you into dissolving, resetting, and reconnecting:

Breathwork is my number one practice that allows for dissolving, resetting, and reconnecting. As a Breathwork and Neurosculpting facilitator, I create journeys that take the nervous system from its fried state into feeling soothing and safe. I have found working with the breath to be as powerful as any other medicine work.

 

I also love working with the Hoʻoponopono prayer for forgiveness. I use this to release and atone to myself and others. I use energy meditations to reconnect or activate the new spaces once I am clear. And I am always a sucker for journal prompts.

 

Most importantly, you want to invite yourself into practices that feel good to you. Have them chosen and prepped before you enter your liminal space.

 

4. Get comfortable being uncomfortable:

I have saved the most crucial aspect for last because it is the one we will wrestle with. To truly enter the liminal, I must be willing to FEEL. I must invite the current feelings and the stuffed, aborted, numbed and ignored feelings to FLOW freely through me. I might need to have some expression as I feel. Though with my 1:1 clients we often find that too much expression takes us out of fully feeling the feelings. At the other end of this tunnel of fear and discomfort, I must believe in my remembrance of wholeness and my peace. This can be so challenging when we face what we have not wanted or been able to see, when we are feeling what we have been working so hard not to feel, and when we have no place to run from our truth.

 

For me, freewriting and listening to music are tremendous supports when I am feeling uncomfortable. I also work with Cacao to open my heart and release the bitterness. Walking in the woods and floating in water are also tools I use to support myself through the discomfort. You could also have the support of a mentor or healer guiding you. These are the birthing pains, and the death throes all in one. It is your essential dark night before the dawn.

 

 

I was unable to ever truly self-soothe until I became willing to go into the liminal with myself. Before this, everything else was me hiding and numbing just to get through life. Choosing to live in cycle with the Celtic Wheel organically called me into practicing with the liminal, as did my time living and traveling in Ireland. Whatever calls you and however you engage, I trust that you will find the fruits of your life to be more plentiful and savory for it. The liminal is genuinely full of potent magic. Maybe you will join me there to walk in this twilight.