If you know me, you know I’m obsessed with the concept of liminality. In fact, I named my very first blog endeavor Liminal Anthropology. I did that for irony at the time, but the concept stuck with me perpetually as a lingering interest. If you are not yet familiar with the word, liminality refers to an in-between transition period to rites of passage. For rites of passage, the stages pass through separation, liminality, and reintegration. Like the recurring initiation narrative of any hero’s journey, the liminal space is where the work happens.
To me, liminality is where the meat of human experiences lie. Milestones are easier to agree to and measure socially, because they exists with ritual standards. The betwixt-and-between moments will differ for each individual, depending on their own journey.
In personal practice time, I find more choice on what my measure of success can be. The challenge is finding ways to validate my personal goals that exist along-side what others may expect my goals would be.
So what can I do to measure what matters? Reflection and mindfulness are a boon for me in this journey. I am finding that I look forward to moments of connection and conversation that come with going to regular lessons of any type. I like having something to look forward to regularly, and having a goal that can be repeated throughout my life.
Ballroom and ballet provide a guided structure of goal setting, and I am learning how to better assert my own goals and needs within that structure. For myself, it is enough to have a regular ritual for lessons that I enjoy. The coffee and the cat play are experiences I enjoy daily, but they become a bit more sacred when I place them into a multi-step ritual event to be planned for.
Speaking of rituals, I am going to end this here for now, so I can grind up the coffee beans and roll up the rugs before my lesson starts!