A Liminal Space

The place between "here" and "there"

“Honor the space between no longer and not yet.” (Nancy Levin, Author)

Living near Lake Ontario, I find myself in awe whenever I look toward its horizon. The vastness of this body of fresh water is impressive.  For persons adventurous enough to sail across this Great Lake, they eventually reach a point where no shoreline remains in their lines of vision. 

Whenever I consider this, I am reminded of a familiar story about an explorer who navigates a ferry across an angry sea.  Huston Smith retells this tale within his book, The World’s Religions. 

In his retelling, he states that mid-way through the voyage, the captain reaches “an interval in the crossing when the only tangible realities are the water, with its treacherous currents, and the boat, which is stoutly but precariously contending with them.”  

If we imagine ourselves as passengers in the boat, we are left with three tasks according to Smith. The first is to take comfort in the fact that there is an able leader at the helm who has made this trip already and proved himself a worthy commander.

The second is to take shelter in the vehicle of transport, the vessel to which we entrust our lives in the belief that it is seaworthy. The third is to take refuge in the crew who navigates the ship, the team who faithfully safeguards us as we traverse the waters. 

Smith goes on to say, “The shoreline of the world has been left behind.  Until we set foot on the further bank, these are the only things in which we can trust.” 

This story, of course, mirrors those times in the spiritual journey when we encounter something called liminal spaces – moments when we lose sight of what’s ahead or behind us. Those times can be frightening, perhaps exhilarating - but usually necessary.  A liminal space prepares us for stepping into major change.  

I’ve encountered several liminal spaces during my lifetime, several of which I described in my previous post.  I’m sure you’ve experienced your share too. They are periods of waiting, of not knowing, of being unable to return to the point where one began.  

We experience liminal space during the process of a divorce or serious illness.  We encounter it while awaiting the birth or adoption of a child, transitioning to a new career, or moving to an unfamiliar area.  

We certainly face a liminal space when wrestling with grief. And seekers experience this as they deconstruct former beliefs and search for a spiritual home.

One thing is certain, though. Whatever the case may be, we will endure the waiting, but can expect to find ourselves transformed by the time we finally catch sight of the distant shore.