RSS Amplifier

Intuitive Living with Kate Van Horn · Aug 6, 2026

The Liminal Space Has a Branding Problem.

0
Sign in to vote or save

Intuitive Living with Kate Van Horn · Intuitive Living with Kate Van Horn

I think “liminal space”, when used to describe a time of transition, needs an immediate rebrand.

We say statements like:

I’m just in a really liminal time right now.”

“I’m in the liminal space. I’m not sure what’s next.”

We seem to hold frustration around these periods. Sometimes there’s even an air of shame when we speak of them. I hear this from clients I work with all the time. It’s as if we’re trying to count down the minutes until our more important and more aligned life actually begins.

(Mood boards really felt fitting since I’m talking about a rebrand here.)

I don’t believe liminal spaces or chapters of transition are the problem.

But I think our resistance to them comes from two places: first, the overly simplified, linear timelines we’ve been sold about how life is supposed to unfold; and second, the personal narratives we create when our own lives don’t follow that script.

We begin to describe navigating the unknown like wandering a hallway or sitting in a waiting room between two lives—a place where nothing quite fits anymore, it’s stark and sad, and all we’re left to do is wait while we become whoever we’re meant to be next.

It’s no wonder some of us want to escape it as quickly as possible.

But transition isn’t some rare detour. It’s the very mechanism by which our lives change.

So if you find yourself in a liminal season more often than others, I APPLAUD you.

READ THIS TWICE: If you’re hanging out in the “in-between” you are not fucking your timeline up. You’re doing something really, really right.

(Side note, I realized I curse far more in real life than I do on Substack.)

We move through a transition every time we end a relationship, start a business, begin a project, leave a job, move to a new city, or simply outgrow a version of ourselves.

Change, and the transitions that inevitably come with each, isn’t the exception to the human experience.

What would happen if we repackaged, rebranded, and spoke differently about our “in-betweens” and “messy middles”?

We do not need to deny the harsh truth that these seasons can be painful, confusing, or lonely. Reality is that they can, and often are.

But if we’re going to spend months—or even years—inside these seasons of transformation, shouldn’t we be intention about the messaging we use to describe them?

We don’t just live inside the physical reality of our lives.

We also live inside the stories, symbols, and metaphors we’ve assigned to them.

I’d like to make a proposal to the marketing department. Which, as I’m writing this, I’m realizing I’m the self-appointed creative director.

The word liminal comes from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Anthropologists originally used it to describe the middle stage of a rite of passage: the moments after one identity had fallen away, but before the next had fully arrived.

Today, “the liminal space” has become shorthand for feeling lost, perpetually confused, or spiritually stuck.

I propose it’s time for us to stop picturing an empty airport terminal or a fluorescent hallway where nothing happens. Let’s walk through the doorway, OVER the threshold, and hang out in a different room of transition for a while instead.

The beautiful thing about a creative residency is that no one arrives expecting immediate results. The entire point is to step away from ordinary productivity long enough to wander, experiment, notice, fail, begin again, read strange books, ask better questions, and become a different kind of artist.

From the outside, it appears like a nothing is growing yet and mostly it’s just a hot room full of soil and not enough circulation. No visible breakthroughs (yet). But beneath the soil, roots are spreading, systems are strengthening, life is gathering momentum. No one walks into a greenhouse demanding proof that the seeds are sprouting after three days. We just appreciate when they do, and tend to them until it’s time.

We don’t enter a meditation retreat expecting the first hour to lead you to any epiphanies. Many people describe the beginning as the hardest part. The mind chatters and resists the pace and the body is fidgets and you begin questioning the flavor (or lack there of) in the food. You become aware of how uncomfortable stillness can actually feel. Shit, why did I sign up for this?? But given enough time, you start hearing truths that were available, but harder to notice over the volume of everyday life.

Notice what all three of these spaces have in common. None of them ask you to stand around and just observe, or worse, just wait.

They each ask you to participate in some way.

No rebrand is complete without updating the messaging, I’d love for you to pay attention to the copy (ie: self talk) you’ve been writing for this season of your life.

What happens if “I’m stuck” becomes, “I’m bravely shifting”?

What happens if “Nothing is happening” becomes, “Some of my most important work isn’t visible yet”?

What happens if “I’m waiting for clarity” becomes, “I’m building the capacity to recognize it”?

I’m not asking you to lie to yourself or over index on the sing-songy meditations here. Although, I do love an affirmation.

I’m instead asking you to become a better copywriter for one of the most important seasons of your life.

ENTER FLOW STATE: My (NEW) six-week practice for becoming a clearer channel for your creativity + intuition.

Custom Mentorship: Inquire about Personal and Psychic Mentorship

HELD: Creative & Business Coaching (2 Spots Open for October!)

Read the original on intuitivelivingbykatevanhorn.substack.com

Comments

Nothing yet. Say the first thing.

    Sign in to join the conversation.