Embracing the Liminal

Embracing the Liminal: Holding Sacred Space in Times of Transformation

Today feels like a sacred day.

It’s as though countless women around the world are holding the same hope in their hearts—the hope of a woman, a vision for the feminine, a collective prayer for the rising of something powerful and ancient within us.

This is the Divine Feminine rising. It’s a force that meets us in the liminal spaces, those thresholds where the ordinary world fades and the sacred begins, no matter how tense, uncomfortable, or even unbearable the moment may feel.

There is divinity in this moment, in this collective tension. I feel it in the quiet pauses, in the intensity of women gathering, and in the shared intention that we are holding—individually and together. This energy reminds me of something I once wrote, a piece I recently stumbled upon, that spoke to the power of sacred spaces. Even years ago, I sensed that we, as women, were moving toward a pivotal moment, a shift in consciousness that would require us to embrace the unknown with open hearts.

Sacred spaces are not just physical; they are the spaces we create in our hearts, the moments we share in silence, and the unity we feel even when separated by distance. They are the liminal realms where transformation occurs, where we hold each other up, and where the Divine Feminine can flow freely, uncontained by the rigid structures of the past.

To stand in a liminal space is to be on the edge of transformation, feeling the push and pull of what has been and what could be. It is uncomfortable, a space of not-yet and almost-there. But it is also sacred, a place where we are stripped of pretense and brought face-to-face with our own raw, unfiltered selves. And this is where we find our strength—in the vulnerability of the in-between, in the courage to hold space for both the endings and the beginnings.

Today, I feel as though women everywhere are embracing this liminality, each of us becoming a vessel for something greater. We are holding the hope of a woman—a hope that honors the past and opens the way for a future filled with grace, power, and love. This is the Divine Feminine weaving through each of us, a collective heartbeat that pulses with the energy of all who have come before us and all who are yet to come.

In this sacred space, I invite you to join me in holding this intention. Feel the rise of the Divine Feminine within yourself, the strength that lies in the unseen, the power that grows quietly in the spaces between. Together, we can transform the uncomfortable into the sacred, the unbearable into the beautiful, and the tense into the transcendent.

Let us have a deep faith in this day, this moment, this liminal space. For it is here, in the threshold, that we find the Divine waiting patiently, ready to rise.

my original writing that inspired this post:

Here is a very small list of some of my sacred spaces.

The bathroom. 

My bathroom. 

It’s pink tub, linseed lino floors. 

Animal prints on walls

 a racoon, a fox 

and

a cross-stitch lion. a treasure discarded when someone moved into an old folks home. 

A bidet- enough to make any room sacred. IMO.

Towels- fluffy towels

Here, in this space you wash away your day of woes. 

You soak off what stuck.

You empty your personal waste and with the flick of a lever send it off to where?

Not here! and that is all that matters. 

You get ready for the world here. 

You put on the masks of the roles you choose to play. 

You wipe them off at the end of the day when you come back to self. 

In reverence I see you, bathroom.  I am beyond grateful for your support.

The front door entry.

The door mat....scrape it all off. 

Don't bring it inside.  Deposit you dirt here. 

The door itself... 

Can open to friends and protect us from the unknown. 

Can separate us from the outside world. 

Is yours easily opened? 

Is it slammed shut? 

My door has side lights of bubbled midcentury glass. 

Allowing images to be seen and not. 

To know when someone approaches but with an air of mystery still in place.

My door is protected by a crazy ass chihuahua and obsidian and selenite. 

Keeping the energy of others away from me.

I see you entryway. 

I am in reverence to the simple act of your support of me and my peace and my safety.

I am in gratitude to you: front door, door mat, stoop. 

I want to sit at your threshold to see what is available on the other side of my sacred space. 

I can sit here all day and watch the birds, porch flies and butterflies.

I can sit here and see there are no unsacred spaces

Just the distorted way we take them in.   Our lens is the reckoning ball to the sacred