There is a subreddit called r/LiminalSpace with nearly a quarter of a million members.
“A liminal space is the time between the ‘what was’ and the ‘next.’ It is a place of transition, waiting, and not knowing. Liminal space is where all transformation takes place, if we learn to wait and let it form us.”
– Cambridge Art Association
It’s a strange thing. The sub shares pictures of liminal space that evoke a strong, yet vague feeling. It’s difficult to describe. Somehow, I just get it…I think.
There are around three different flavors of posts in r/LiminalSpace:
1. The space between – at the end of one thing, but before the beginning of another
2. Empty spaces that are usually buzzing with activity, but captured while barren and quiet
3. Fever dreams – stuff that doesn’t make much sense and squeezed into a space that’s too small and cramped.
Despite the variety of the pictures, the feeling that is evoked in me is the same – a melancholy familiarity and nostalgia that bubbles to the surface. It’s the feeling of being on the outside looking in on a space you can’t enter because it no longer exists.
I’ve been thinking about liminal spaces a lot lately because I feel like I’m in one. I feel like I’m in them a lot. I’m always moving. And in always moving, I’m always in some state of change. Waiting for this current state to end so another one can begin. I’ve been in a liminal state of my career for about a year now, moving out of grad school (defending this month, gulp!) and into running the company full time.
I’ve always thought liminal space looks like this:
But instead, mine looks like this:
I think liminal spaces can be a gap between two things, but it can also be the space that’s overlapping. I’m not fully in one space or the other, so it’s a mixture of both that shouldn’t be together. In reference to the subreddit’s definition, I do think it’s where some transformation can take place. When we are between two things, we are in the position to determine closure of one chapter and trajectory of the next. It’s an uncomfortable space to be in because things feel smashed together without consideration of whether there’s enough room. I appreciate the growth that comes with sitting in our discomfort, but I would like to have my feet on solid ground again, just for a little while. I would like things to feel more real soon.