Is
the discussion of liminal spaces new to the zeitgeist, or am I just late to the
proverbial party? Whether it’s on a podcast or while I am scrolling Reddit, the
topic seems to be popping up more lately.
Googles
offers:
“Liminal space is the uncertain transition between where
you've been and where you're going physically, emotionally, or metaphorically.
To be in a liminal space means to be on the precipice of something new but not
quite there yet. The word "liminal" comes from the Latin word
“limen,” which means threshold.” – www.verywellmind.com
“In
Internet aesthetics, liminal spaces are empty or abandoned places that appear
eerie, forlorn, and often surreal. Liminal spaces are commonly places of
transition, pertaining to the concept of liminality.” -Wikipedia
“Liminal" is from the Latin word ‘limen’, which means threshold.
A liminal space is the time between ‘what was’ and ‘next.’ It is a place of
transition, a time of waiting and not knowing the future.
Richard Rohr describes this space as, “where we are betwixt and between
the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left
behind, while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space
where genuine newness can begin.” - www.inaliminalspace.org
My best guess is that I first stumbled upon the concept either through
the work of Greg and Dana Newkirk (love them) or while browsing Reddit, though
I only just now discovered that liminal space has its own subreddit. (There’s
truly one for everything.)
Up until last night, I hadn’t thought about the concept much beyond
thinking that it was interesting. However, through another seemingly unrelated
series of events I had a bit of an aha moment and now find myself excited to
document and share yet another synchronistic unfolding.
This may take awhile, so get your favorite beverage and settle in for a
heartbreaking tale that has left me bewildered and feeling as if complete understanding
is just barely out of my grasp. Maybe you can shed some light? Or maybe writing
about it will help me find some peace around it? Or maybe we can just be
confounded together.
For the past several years, I have been taking long walks through the
small town where I live and through the neighboring small town, where I grew
up. I have enjoyed these walks for a variety of reasons: exercise, nostalgia,
and preparation for giving readings, as I find physical exertion beneficial in
clearing out the muck.
Sometimes, I will do well with walking regularly and I love it. Other
times, life or the weather gets in the way and my schedule is disrupted. I walk
some incredibly steep hills, and generally go for about 4 miles, so when the
temps soar in July and August, I tend to not get as much walking in just
because the air quality can get pretty nasty here and it can be a bit much for
my aging body.
Last year, was pretty much the same: loads of walking in the spring and
early summer, then a tapering off. October 5th was a glorious autumn
day, so I happily set out for my walk but decided that instead of taking my
usual route, I would change things up and be more adventuresome by walking
through the many old alleyways. I had a great time snapping loads of photos,
and feeling joyful over the gorgeous weather.
One of my favorite discoveries was when I discovered that someone had
made their back privacy fence out of reclaimed wooden doors. It was so
beautiful and artistically conceived. I stopped and took several photos. As I
was doing so, I noticed the garage door to the left of the fence had a sign on
it which read, “Funeral Parking Only.” This struck me as weird and kind of
amusing, so I made sure to take a few photos of it as well.
When I got home that day, I took some of my favorite photos and posted
them on Instagram. The post was titled, “Walking Alleyways.” Here are the
photos from the post and a link to the original: Walking Alleyways
Fast
forward to Saturday, November 4th, where I am at my desk working on
preparing items for my on-line store. My phone rings. It’s my sister-in-law. I
immediately know that something is wrong because she and my brother typically
only text. She tells me that my sister has died. If you have ever received a
phone call like this, you know the shock, horror, disbelief, and
drop-you-to-your-knees pain that crashes over you like waves and you cannot
catch your breath. There really aren’t words to fully describe the experience.
I am writing this now nine months later and there are days when it still doesn’t
seem real or even possible. Even being able to connect with my sister on the
other side, doesn’t provide a shortcut through grief, though I can’t imagine
having to try and navigate this without our eternal bond.
As
Thanksgiving approached, I was filled with anxiety over seeing my extended
family on our first holiday without her. I was convinced that I would just
spend the entire time crying. I considered just staying home but needed to be
there for my mom and my children. Instead, I decided to take a walk to try and
release some of my stress about the situation.
Because
it had been a month since my last walk and with everything I had been through
in the meantime, I knew that I wasn’t up for the extended hill walk. Instead, I
decided to just take an abbreviated version. As I was winding my way back home,
I crossed the entrance of an alley and thought, “Oh, I wonder if this is the
one with the fence made out of doors?” I fondly remembered the joy of that day and
backtracked a few steps to make my way down the alley.
About
midway down, I was delighted to see that it was the right one. I smiled at the
doors and then looked at the “Funeral Parking Only” sign with a braced and
brief glance. I kept walking and as soon as I stepped past the garage with the
sign, I gasped and said out loud, “Oh! This is where you died!”
My
sister was dating a man who lived in that small town. She took a counterfeit pain
pill that contained fentanyl and died in her sleep at his house. I hadn’t known
where he lived exactly until after her passing, and definitely not when I stood in the alley behind his house to get the shots of his neighbor’s “Funeral Parking Only”
sign.
I
was shocked and immediately angry! What kind of messed of premonition was this?
How did I end up standing right there one month and a day before my sister died
in that same spot? She died in bed and that post even has a photo of a black
mattress sitting out for the trash. Unbelievable.
I
had taken this walk to feel better and now I was filled with confusion and
anger. The whole thing was so unsettling that I didn’t even feel as if I could
share it with everyone. It was too confusing. I reached out to only three
family members that day asking what they thought it could possibly mean. Everyone
was confused.
My
cousin said that his intuitive take on it was that it was about acceptance. I wasn’t
in the mood for accepting anything so strange being centered around something
so painful, but I sat with that idea for awhile.
The
issue with accidental deaths is that they seem as if they could have been
prevented. Trying to wrap my head around an experience that seemed to be a
premonition of some type, an experience that unfolded on a gorgeous, joyful
day, that in hindsight seemed too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence but
instead more like an omen of the darkest variety pissed me off.
Eventually,
I came around to feeling that even though her death was deemed accidental, I
really have no way of knowing whether or not we plan how we will leave before
we arrive in this lifetime. I feel like we do plan both our arrivals and our
departures but that is not something we can Know for sure. It feels true to me
though and if that is the case, then maybe accidental deaths aren’t accidental?
I don’t know.
Imagine
that we are all ripples in a pond and all of the endless intersections we make
with one another. When someone dies, it changes our reality forever. This
impact seems too life altering to be accidental. I may not understand it, but
eventually I came to the conclusion that my cousin was right and that the
experience was about acceptance.
Last
night, I was supposed to go to an event that I haven’t ever attended before: a
shamanic drumming meditation journey. It’s only held once a month, and this was
my first availability to go. A new friend had invited me and I was excited.
Unfortunately, yesterday morning I woke up before my alarm went off because my
nose was filling up with yuck. I had been feeling for several days as if some
viral ick had been trying to take hold but I thought I had been successful in
staving it off. Yesterday morning told me otherwise.
Several
hours of sneezing and lying in bed exhausted later, I shared that I wasn’t able
to go. Later in the day, my new friend asked if we could talk. I was up for it,
so we did. One of the things he shared with me, was about another medium who
had had an incredible experience when his father passed. It reminded me of this
experience of mine, so I shared it.
After
we hung up the phone, I texted him a link to the original Instagram post. I
have shared this story with many people by now, but for some reason, when I
looked at the link in the text thread and saw the title, “Walking Alleyways” I
was struck with an instant knowing that this was an example of being in a
liminal space. I quickly looked up whether or not alleyways are considered to
be liminal spaces and then searched for the definition in an attempt to
validate my aha moment.
As
unaware as I was on October 5th, I was most definitely standing on a
threshold, one that even contained a lot of doors. My life was about to change
forever. While I have come to think of the experience as being about
acceptance, and now have added this new layer of liminal space mystique, I
still don’t feel as if I completely understand the purpose of it in its
entirety.
It's
also interesting how things unfolded yesterday. Had I been able to attend the
event would our conversation have unfolded to include the sharing of my story
and the link that made me do a double-take and a deeper dive into liminal
spaces?
Would
I have written this piece? Who will read it? What ripples will it make?
As
always, I would love to hear your thoughts or any stories you may have about
synchronicity or liminal spaces.
