Liminal is that pause when you've taken a deep in-drawn breath and you hold your lungs full for a few heartbeats. You know there's going to be a great out pouring of breath, but just for a moment, a brief instant, you hold your breath, you hold that pause in your chest. You stand on the edge of the precipice.
Liminal is the moment of the wave that's crashed on to the beach, before it is drawn back out. It is the stillness of high tide, just before it turns. It is the space before the sun rises, when night has fled the sky but the day hasn't yet crested.
This is liminal. The in between. An intermediate place or time. A threshold. A transition. A state in between one thing and the next. There is suspension, tension, a stillness. It is the calm before the storm. It is the time between the votes being cast and the announcement of the results. It's that moment before a concert when the speakers are crackling and popping and you hold your breath, excitement uncurling in your stomach... and wait. Wait.
Liminal is the space between an idea and its actualisation, between the thought and the first step to bring that thought into reality. It is the space between finishing one job and starting another. An uncomfortable place in the middle of a career change where everything is uncertain, unsettled. You can review all that lies behind and see all that is to come ahead, but for a brief pause you stand on the fulcrum, the threshold. You hold your breath. You wait.... wait. There is stillness here. Just for a few heartbeats before you tumble forwards, into the future.