The Liminal Space: Navigating the ‘In-Between’ of change
There’s a moment in every change journey when the old ways no longer fit, but the new ways haven’t fully formed. The door has closed, but the new one is yet to open. It’s where news has come, but the news doesn’t include how it ends. The news is how this new chapter starts. It’s the moment after you’ve stepped off the cliff but before your feet touch the new ground. It’s the fog, the disorientation, the space where you feel suspended between what was and what will be.
Anthropologists call it the liminal space, the threshold in-between two states - a period when old identities dissolve and new ones have not yet formed. The concept was first popularised by Arnold van Gennep in 1909 and later expanded by Victor Turner, who called it a time of “betwixt and between.” What makes liminality fascinating is how deeply woven it is into human culture, and how much we can identify with the concept.
Liminality shows up everywhere, pilgrimages, weddings, grief rituals, adolescence. Across cultures, humans intuitively understand that transformation needs an “in-between,” a place where the old falls away and the new can be imagined.
Most people don’t like being here. It’s unnerving, unpredictable, and void of the usual anchors. But the liminal space is a transitional moment. It’s the part that often matters most, and where opportunities emerge - if we just push through change without acknowledging the bit in-between, we might miss the magic.
In my work supporting people and organisations through change, I’ve found that the liminal space is where the real rewiring happens, where identities shift, habits break open, and new possibilities quietly begin to take shape. It’s never comfortable but it can be very rewarding eventually.
Play with the five steps to help you navigate that messy middle bit. With some gentle thoughts, and space to think, you never know what comes to vsiit you in the liminal space!
1. Pause: Create time to think
When change is swirling, our instinct is often to rush toward certainty. We want answers. Action. Solutions. Anything that replaces the discomfort of not knowing.
But the liminal space demands a different rhythm.
A pause isn’t paralysis; it’s an intentional slowing so you can reconnect with yourself before you charge ahead. Pausing lets you notice what’s happening beneath the surface, the emotions, tensions, hopes, and fears that might otherwise get buried.
Pausing can look like:
Taking ten quiet minutes before jumping into the to do list.
Sitting with your journal and writing down what feels true today.
Naming out loud: “I don’t know yet, and that’s okay for now.”
The pause isn’t the end of movement; it’s the grounding that allows movement to be conscious. It might feel odd to stop right now, but it’s part of the process.
2. Get Messy: Allow the discomfort rather than resisting it
Change stirs things up. It challenges identities. It disrupts routines, expectations, and comfort zones.
In the liminal space, things will feel messy.
This stage isn’t about descending into chaos, but about acknowledging the swirl rather than fighting it. When we resist mess, we miss insights. When we allow mess, it becomes information.
“Getting messy” means giving yourself permission to:
Feel contradictory emotions, hope and fear, excitement and grief.
Admit that you don’t have all the answers.
Let go of the pressure to be ‘sorted’ or ‘strong’ in every moment.
This is the composting stage of change: everything is breaking down so something healthier can grow.
3. Play: Let curiosity loosen the grip of fear
Once you’ve paused and acknowledged the mess, something surprising often happens, space opens up. Not certainty, but possibility.
Play is the antidote to fear-driven thinking. It invites experimentation without judgement. It loosens rigid patterns. It lets you approach change lightly rather than tightly.
In practical terms, play might look like:
Brainstorming your most unrealistic ideas just to see what surfaces.
Asking “what if…?” instead of “what now?”
Exploring scenarios without committing to any of them.
Play isn’t frivolous, it’s creatively strategic. It’s how you stay open when your instinct is to shrink.
4. Try: Move from ideas into action, slowly
When the ground beneath you feels uncertain, the idea of bold moves can feel overwhelming. That’s why in the liminal space, progress is built through small tries rather than giant leaps.
Trying is about taking one step, not all of them. It’s about testing possibilities without demanding perfection. It’s gentle momentum.
Trying can be as simple as:
Having one bold conversation.
Drafting the first paragraph of something new.
Testing a habit for one week.
Saying yes - or no - just once.
You don’t need absolute commitment yet. You just need traction and movement.
5. Restart: take ownership of beginning again
In the liminal space, you’ll try things… and some won’t work. That’s not failure. That’s data.
Restarting is the process of integrating what you’ve learned, recalibrating, and beginning again, this time with more clarity and confidence.
Restart asks:
What is my intention?
What am I saying yes to, and no to?
What’s ready for the next version?
Restarting acknowledges that change loops, evolves, invites do-overs. And every restart is a sign of agency, and taking ownership of what happens next.
Living the In-Between
Liminal spaces can feel uncomfortable, but they also hold extraordinary potential. They’re the birthplace of reinvention, courage, surprise, and new chapters.
When you feel suspended between old and new, remember:
Pause.
Get messy.
Play.
Try.
Restart.
These five steps won’t eliminate uncertainty, but they will help you move through it with more awareness, compassion, and agency.
Because the in-between is not a waiting room, it’s part of the transformation.
This special podcast episode might help to think through this moment.