Liminal Space: A Wonderful Gift – Between Who You Were and Who You’re Becoming

I learned a new word recently, and when I explored the meaning of it, I had one of those quiet but powerful “ah-ha” moments.

The word is liminal.

It describes the space between what was and what will be—the place where you are no longer where you once were, but the next chapter hasn’t fully revealed itself yet. Most of us pass through this kind of space at some point in our lives, even if we don’t always have language for it. It often appears after periods of deep change, when one chapter has clearly ended but the next one hasn’t fully taken shape.

Almost everyone reaches a moment in life when the old identity no longer fits, but the new one hasn’t fully arrived yet. If you’ve ever felt like you’re standing between chapters in your life, you’ve likely experienced a liminal space too.

When I explored the meaning of the word, I immediately recognized the feeling it describes. That’s exactly where I was.

Choosing a North Star Word

For several years now, I’ve chosen a single word at the start of each year to guide the months ahead. Not a resolution and not a rigid goal—just one word that acts like a kind of North Star. It shapes the way I move through the year and keeps my intentions aligned, which ultimately influences the decisions I make.

Sometimes the word appears quickly. Other times it takes longer to reveal itself. 

But over time, I’ve noticed something interesting.

Looking back at the words I chose over the last several years, I noticed that they weren’t random. Each one reflected a season of growth and quietly influenced the choices I made along the way. Even when the word wasn’t top of mind every day, it was still working in the background, nudging my thinking and shaping the direction I moved.

It’s a powerful reminder that intention shapes direction, often in ways we only recognize later.

The Year of Flow

In 2025, the word that guided me was flow.

At first glance, flow sounds simple—letting go of control and allowing life to unfold naturally. But for me, it meant something deeper.

Flow meant releasing the need to control every outcome, even when uncertainty felt uncomfortable. It meant trusting movement rather than rigid plans. At times it also meant letting go of things I held dearly, even when my heart didn’t want to.

That was the real test.

Could I trust my intuition enough to follow where it was leading, even when the direction didn’t make perfect sense? Could I move forward without gripping the steering wheel quite so tightly?

Flow became an ongoing exercise in listening inward and trusting that the internal compass would guide me better than forcing outcomes ever could. Interestingly, that shift created something unexpected. When the need to control every detail softens, space opens up—space that allows things to emerge that might otherwise have been missed.

What Happens After Transformation

Based on my experience, life change never happens overnight. It unfolds over years and even decades. During that transition, habits evolve, perspectives shift, and priorities change. And when that happens, life can look very different on the other side.

But what people rarely talk about is what happens after transformation. What happens once the dust settles and the obvious changes have already taken place.

That’s when something unexpected can occur.

When Direction Gets Quiet

Life itself may still be active and moving forward, but direction can become quiet. After years of transformation and momentum, it’s possible to reach a point where the next step isn’t immediately obvious. There’s no dramatic new chapter announcing itself and no clear roadmap outlining exactly what comes next.

Instead, there is a sense that something is forming beneath the surface, even if it hasn’t fully revealed itself yet.

This is where the word liminal becomes useful. Liminal space is the threshold between identities and chapters—the hallway between rooms. It’s the moment when one door has closed but the next one hasn’t opened yet.

Once I embraced what liminal really meant, something shifted for me. I realized I was standing in a transition—a place where one chapter had clearly ended, but the next one was still taking shape. That realization didn’t give me the answer to what came next, but it helped me understand the season I was in.

Discovering the Word for 2026

I had been trying to figure out my 2026 word for weeks, and when the new year arrived, I still wasn’t sure what the right word would be to guide me through the year.

Liminal would not be my word. It certainly wasn’t a place I wanted to stay – especially for the next year, and it wasn’t really a guiding word. It was more of a “here I am” word—a way of recognizing the space I was standing in. That realization felt profound and important to my journey, but it wasn’t the direction itself.

Eventually, during meditation, the word for 2026 surfaced. Foundation.

Foundation isn’t flashy. It doesn’t suggest speed or dramatic leaps forward. Instead, it points toward building something solid and stable. Foundations are rarely glamorous, but they hold everything up. They create the stability that allows the next chapter to grow.

Learning to Be Comfortable in Liminal Space

Liminal seasons are uncomfortable by nature. We’re wired to want certainty, clarity, and forward momentum. The in-between rarely offers those things right away.

But there are ways to move through this space without fighting it. Clarity often arrives slowly, revealing itself step by step rather than all at once. 

Curiosity can be more helpful than forcing answers, because exploration allows us to notice what energizes us and what doesn’t. Strengthening foundations—health, habits, relationships, personal values, and even geography—creates stability when direction feels uncertain.

Reflection also becomes important. Liminal space often reveals insights that constant motion hides.

For me, meditation has been one of the most valuable tools in navigating this season. Sitting quietly each day helps clear the noise of the mind and reconnect with the deeper signals coming from within. It’s often in those quiet moments that the next step becomes clearer.

Often the body knows the direction long before the mind can explain it.

The Quiet Work of Becoming

Growth rarely moves in a straight line. There are seasons of action and momentum, and there are seasons where the most important work happens quietly beneath the surface.

Liminal space is not wasted time. It’s where integration happens. It’s where foundations strengthen and where the next version of life slowly begins to take shape. When we look back later, many of the moments that once felt uncertain become the turning points that allowed the next chapter to unfold.

Liminal seasons can feel uncomfortable, but they are often the exact place where the next version of our life begins.

Listening to the Awakened Body

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that direction doesn’t always come from forcing the mind to figure everything out. Often it comes from learning to listen more closely to the body, to intuition, and to the quiet signals that guide us when we slow down enough to hear them.

That idea sits at the heart of what I explore in The Awakened Body. When we reconnect with the wisdom within us, the path forward has a way of revealing itself in its own time.

Right now the work is simple: strengthen the foundation, stay present in the process, and trust that the next step will appear when it’s ready. Because the space between who we were and who we are becoming is not empty. It’s where the body recalibrates, intuition grows clearer, and the foundation for the next chapter quietly begins to take shape.