Liminal Space and Waiting

Last week I was reminded of the importance of liminal space. In-between time where you have left what was, but not yet entered what’s to come, sometimes known as threshold time.

Liminal spaces can be disorientating, we can feel vulnerable in them and extra care is often needed.

Twilight is liminal. The time between the end of daylight and the darkness of the night requires our eyes to adjust - we don’t always see clearly as a result, and need to take care, particularly when going at speed.

It’s helpful to slow down and pay greater attention in liminal space. Yet so often we long to arrive at the next stage and know we’re ok. The very last thing we want is for the transition to be prolonged, no matter what it can teach us.

In a world where we are systematically eradicating the need to wait, I wonder if liminal times are becoming increasingly painful and difficult to navigate?

We can feel so empowered by the power of now. Instant credit enables us to get what we want, we binge watch TV series, food and fashion is fast, we can shop 24/7 and even next day delivery can feel slow. We love now.

Yet at the same time – we’re spending more time waiting for the things that make us feel vulnerable: health appointments and operations, banking and service support. Understandably we increasingly associate waiting with anxiety, irritation and a sense of helplessness. Often this waiting is done alone at the end of a phone, compounding the isolation.

If waiting is essential to change and growth – think of a bulb in the ground.

What can we do to reregulate ourselves in between-times? What practices help us develop patience?

In the Christian calendar, advent is a crucial liminal time – it’s the 4 weeks before Christmas day. It’s one of the two times in the year when as a community we practice waiting and remembering we are living between states. (Lent is the other).

Christmas is a major celebration because we believe that Divine Love took radical action to demonstrate the depth of desire there is in the universe for us to be at one with that Love. By taking form as a human with all the vulnerabilities that entails, Love hoped we’d find it easier to draw near and accept that we too are created and designed by and for Love. The birth of Jesus is a big deal to us, it’s the birth of embodied Love.    

As a community we remember we live in a liminal space between what was, separation from Love, and what is yet to come, living fully with Love. A state when justice and peace will reign, when fear, hate, disease, war and suffering will end.

Clearly, we aren’t there yet.

We intentionally take these four weeks to acknowledge how deeply distressing and painful that is personally and globally. Waiting for justice and peace to reign and suffering to end, can seem interminable. It can be easy to lose hope.

So, we also remind ourselves that we are moving toward the Christmas message that love is greater than fear, and that in the end love will win every imaginable battle.

In advent we consciously sit in that paradox. In this liminal time, we choose to stay with the pain both as an act of love and gratitude to Love and as an act of solidarity with all that groans within creation for that time of ultimate liberation.

It’s a purposeful slowing down enabling us to take care and remember that we don’t wait alone. Love also waits with us and shares the pain and sorrow.

And that although we can’t always see progress, we are moving forward. Unseen things are taking place that are bringing that promised time closer. (Just like all the calls that are being answered whilst we’re waiting in line and listening to the same message on repeat).

At home we have an advent candle we burn daily at dinner. It’s a tiny, quiet reminder that our waiting will end. 24 days of gathering round a shortening candle. The promise and excitement of Christmas is coming.

While we wait, we ask what can we do today to make way for justice and peace? What love can we share?

This advent I wonder, Christian or not, what liminal spaces do you find yourself in? Do you have practices that help you slow down, take care and wait with hope? Are you in a supportive community, or would you appreciate someone accompanying you through this time? I’d love to know.