One of my favorite words from divinity school is “liminality” – it’s a description of the betwixt-and-between, the neither-here-nor-there. The gap between life and death is liminal space. The pause before the chorus Good Vibrations is a liminal space.

There are just three rules for liminal space, as far as I can tell.

First, we’re not allowed to stay. Liminal spaces are not permanent.

Second, we can’t go backwards. Only through.

Third, in the liminality, amazing things are possible.

Dear ones, we are in strange times, betwixt and between. I’m drinking the same coffee, but the beans were handed to me in a silent parking lot by a shop worker in gloves and mask. I’m doing the same daily work, but my colleagues are all pixels.

Here is the good news, according to the rules above:

We will exit this liminal state eventually.

We will go through, not back.

Right now, in the liminality, we are in a space of immense potential.

What do we choose?

In impossible times, impossible things are possible.