Franciscan Friar Richard Rohr describes liminal space as the space:
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. Get there often and stay as long as you can by whatever means possible…This is the sacred space where the old world is able to fall apart, and a bigger world is revealed. If we don’t encounter liminal space in our lives, we start idealizing normalcy.[1]
Edgewalker, have you ever wondered why you are known for bringing a sense of calm into a room full of chaos? Even if we are not aware of it, Edgewalkers understand and are acquainted with liminal space. We have an inherent trait that allows us to exist in the in-betweens of this world. This is an uncomfortable space for many, but for Edgewalkers, the familiar feeling of “in-between” prompts us into action. We find our rest in the suspended feeling of calm, aware of but not intimidated by the chaos and uncertainty around us. In these uncharted waters, we feel comfort in cutting our boats free and drifting towards the open ocean, knowing that there is a new land where we will come to rest and flourish. Liminal space is our domain. The call to action for us is to serve as guides for those who enter into this threshold space between what was and what has yet to become. We have been here before, and we know the ways of liminal space. Others look to us because they see us remaining calm. This is not something we do, it is something we are.
The COVID-19 Pandemic has served as a catalyst for people and organizations to leap towards continuous change and improvement models that are more fluid and supportive of new environments and conditions. Edgewalkers have an opportunity to use our insights, experience and understanding to guide and facilitate others through change. Whether it is personal coaching to help others respond to new opportunities or a call from organizations to recreate strategic plans, we know the through the uncertainty of uncharted waters. It is for times such as these that we have been gifted with the intuitions and abilities to navigate the change for ourselves, and to guide others.
Edgewalkers understand and are acquainted with liminal space. We have an inherent trait that allows us to exist in the in-betweens of this world. This is an uncomfortable space for many, but for Edgewalkers, the familiar feeling of “in-between” prompts us into action.
As an Edgewalker, I thrive when I have space to create. I thrive even more when I have a community of like-minded people to share my ideas with, so that I can test what I learned in the darkness before I share with wider audience. As a community of Edgewalkers, we are always stronger and can travel farther. Our collective creativity, intelligence, and goodness are greater than when we are alone. We are a hive, working together towards new possibilities, new horizons. But as we experience liminal space, we must also keep in mind that not everybody feels comfortable here. Being aware of our own response to liminality is the first step to healthy movement through the threshold moment. When we find our own comfort zone, we become beacons for others. We become trailblazers – one of the qualities of Edgewalkers.
Is it important for Edgewalkers to become acquainted with and aware of liminal space? You bet it is! We spend most of our human existence navigating liminal space at one level or another. Developmental theorists like Erik Erickson, Jean Piaget, and James Fowler, to name but a few, spent many years discovering and exploring stages of development that we experience throughout our lives. We may believe that we spend most of our time within one of these developmental stages, but the truth is that we spend very little time on the solid plateau of a particular stage of development. We spend most of our time in transition between these stages, experiencing many sequences and series of losses and gains, always with liminal space between stages.
Letting Go of the Old
You may have heard me say it before – the threshold is the place to pause and consider what I need to hold onto and what I need to let go of as I transition through the doorway to the “new.” This is the liminal space, where I grapple with the reality that to be filled with new and fresh things and ideas, I must first empty myself of habits, ideas, and viewpoints no longer needed in the next stage. It is not easy to let go of some things.
As I write this, I am in liminal space. Just yesterday, I relinquished my business devices and building pass that tied me to my workplace for the past 6 ½ years. I said goodbye to colleagues and friends. As I packed my desk, I had no choice but to reflect on the new position I will enter into in a few days. I have toys in my workspace (a mini-basketball hoop with a plasticine ball, Pez dispensers for visitors who happen by, free toys from kid’s meals at fast food restaurants, mind puzzles, compasses, and so on). I have used toys in my décor for many years. I find they help me to stay grounded while being creative. But will I be able to use these in my new space? Will my new space support this kind of environment? Will my new teammates appreciate this part of who I am? I don’t know.
I will admit, this unknown causes me a little bit of trepidation. It is easy to keep a toy at home. It is harder to leave a playfully creative disposition behind. Some things might meet their end, but others I will take with me.
Navigating the Liminal Space
I have learned that liminal space is the time of preparation. When the tide is out, it’s time to clean the beach. When I let go of the old, it’s time to prepare myself to receive the new.
So here I am, suspended in the darkness, disconnected. In leaving and letting go of my old workplace and colleagues, I feel loss, sadness and a sense of uncertainty at what is to come. This is the nature of liminal space. This is not my first journey into the liminal. I also know that if you are reading this you are also no stranger to liminal space. At times in the past, I have felt disoriented in this darkness, suspended in time, not existing where I was, and not yet existing where I am going. Depending on how the push into liminal space has happened in the past, I am also familiar with fear, uncertainty, denial, and grief. The list of possible emotions is infinite. But the more acquainted I have become with threshold thinking and remaining in liminal space, the more manageable these emotions have become and the more emotionally intelligent I have become.
I have learned that liminal space is the place and time of preparation. When the tide is out, it’s time to clean the beach. When I let go of the old, it’s time to prepare myself to receive the new. This is the act of personal reflection and engagement in liminal space. I can either let fear of the unknown grip me, or celebrate the horizon, this landscape in which I find myself. Both will prepare me for re-entry, but only celebration will allow me to land on my feet. Celebration includes the power of a simple thank you to others in my community, sharing excitement about the coming opportunities with others, and ensuring others have what they need to also land on their feet with me.
As Edgewalkers, we keep our eyes on the horizon and look for a foothold so we can begin moving again. We do not panic when we can’t land yet. We only continue to soar until the new land comes into view. We sail our vessels until it is time to drop anchor once again in the new world.
The New World
In three days, my destination will come into full view. My landscape will open to a new position in a new area of my large organization. Others have been there before me. They are preparing the way for me, ensuring I feel a sense of orientation and welcome. Those who go before me are already taking great care of me.
When Europeans first arrived in the America’s, they also were not the first to arrive. Many did not respect the wisdom and ways the First Peoples, the Indigenous people of the land. As Edgewalkers, we have a responsibility to do better, to arrive well. We are called to be slow to speak and quick to listen; and listen to understand. Only then can I know for sure the best way to respond for the benefit of all.
I am excited for the unknown that lies ahead. What lies beyond the horizon is mine to claim. The landscape is mine to walk upon and care for. As I walk, I surrender my old ways back to the land. These old ways of doing things have served me for a time, but I gratefully release them to create space for the new ideas, habits and ways of doing things that I will pick up along the way. This new landscape offers many possibilities to live into. I am open to these new opportunities, committed to following my core values that will guide me to the success that lies ahead.
Donovan Mutschler, MA, MC
For more information on this or other topics of interest contact Donovan Mutschler at donovan@edgewalkers.ca.
Title Photo: Lara Dawn Photography
[1] Richard Rohr, (2004), Adam’s Return: The Five Promises of Male Initiation.
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