As October rolls along with its cooler air and longer nights, we often hear in Celtic tradition that “the veil is thin.” It’s said that during this time, the boundary between the seen and unseen worlds softens, allowing us to connect more deeply with our inner selves, our ancestors, and the spiritual realm. For those on a recovery journey, this thinning of the veil can carry a lot of meaning. Sobriety, too, reveals truths that once felt distant or hidden. In many ways, the path of recovery mirrors this seasonal shift, inviting us into a space where the familiar fades and the unknown begins to emerge.
October also brings us into what is called liminal space. It’s the uncomfortable middle ground—the not-quite-before and the not-yet-after. In recovery, this liminality is where we live when old ways of coping have fallen away, but new ways haven’t fully formed. We’re suspended between the past and the future, between who we were and who we’re becoming.
Navigating the Discomfort of Liminality
Liminal space can feel destabilizing because it challenges our craving for certainty. Without the old habits to fall back on and without yet fully trusting the new, we are asked to sit in the ambiguity. Our minds want to create stories, make sense of the senseless, and grasp for control. But liminal space is about letting go of that control and learning to live with uncertainty.
Early in my sobriety, I felt lost in this space. I wasn’t the person who used alcohol to dull the edges of life anymore, but I also wasn’t sure who I was becoming. It was like standing at a crossroads where every direction seemed equally unfamiliar. I didn’t yet trust the path ahead, but I couldn’t go back either. The temptation to revert to old habits was strong, not because they served me but because they were familiar.
People often stumble in this liminal space because it asks us to live without answers and sit with discomfort. But it’s also where real growth happens. It’s where we build the muscles needed for long-term recovery. It’s where we expand our threshold for discomfort, learning to tolerate the unknown without retreating into our past.
Building Sobriety Muscles Through Pausing
One of the most powerful tools in liminal space is learning to pause. Pausing is an act of self-compassion. It’s about creating a gap between impulse and action, a moment where we can observe what’s happening without trying to fix or change anything. In liminal space, the practice of pausing allows us to resist the urge to fill the void with stories, judgments, or false narratives.
When we pause, we can ask, “What is the truth of this moment?” Not what we think should be happening, but what is happening. This practice has been a lifeline for me. It helped me see the stories my mind would spin—stories of not being enough, not being far enough along—and instead, allowed me to sit with the discomfort and observe it for what it was. I realized that in that pause, I could find a sense of peace, even if nothing about the situation had changed.
This is the essence of building what I call “sobriety muscles”—the ability to sit with the unknown without turning away from it. Each time we pause in a moment of uncertainty, we strengthen our capacity to tolerate discomfort. We learn that we don’t need to rush through liminal space; we can be present within it and trust that answers will come when they’re ready.
Integration: The Hidden Work of Liminal Space
Liminal spaces aren’t just places to pass through—they’re where true integration happens. Without these in-between moments, we can’t bring together all the parts of ourselves that need healing. In recovery, we need time to live without striving to fix or change everything. Sometimes, growth looks like just being. In a world that demands constant progress, the idea of pausing to exist feels counterintuitive. But in reality, this pause is vital.
Integration is the process of allowing ourselves to exist in the here and now without the pressure to be anything more. It’s accepting that, as imperfect as we are, we are enough. When we allow ourselves to rest in this space, the change we seek happens naturally. We stop trying to force transformation and let it unfold on its timeline.
This is why October’s liminal space—the veil’s thinness—is so profound. It reminds us that these spaces of waiting are where we knit together the fractured parts of ourselves. We integrate our past, present, and future into something whole. We don’t have to force it. We need to allow it to be.
The Power of Presence
One of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves in liminal space is presence. It’s simple but powerful. Presence is about grounding ourselves in the moment, even when everything around us feels uncertain. In recovery, this practice has been crucial for me. Grounding myself—feeling my feet on the earth, taking a deep breath—allows me to reconnect with what’s real rather than getting swept away by fears or doubts about the future.
When we’re present, we can ask ourselves, “What is true right now?” Maybe the truth is that we’re scared, uncertain, or uncomfortable. But instead of running from those truths, we can sit with them. We can acknowledge them without needing to fix them. This act of presence doesn’t take the discomfort away, but it creates space around it. It reminds us that our discomfort does not define us and that we can exist alongside it.
Trusting the Process
Recovery is a journey full of twists, turns, and unexpected challenges. Liminal space is a necessary part of that journey. It’s uncomfortable because it forces us to confront the unknown, but it’s also transformative. It’s in these moments that we build resilience, expand our capacity for discomfort, and integrate all the pieces of ourselves into something stronger and more whole.
So as October unfolds and the veil between worlds thins, embrace the liminal space. Allow yourself to be present within it. Pause, observe, and trust that what’s coming next will reveal itself in time. You are enough, right here, right now. And in this space of uncertainty, you are growing in ways you may not yet understand.
SPIRITUAL GANGSTER: Welcome to the ‘Spiritual Gangster’ wing of The Sober Curator, a haven for those on a sober journey with a twist of spiritual sass. Here, we invite you to plunge headfirst into a world of meditation, astrology, and spiritual reflection – all while keeping your feet (and sobriety) firmly on the ground.
A Disco Ball is Hundreds of Pieces of Broken Glass, Put Together to Make a Magical Ball of Light. You are NOT Broken, Friend. You are a DISCO BALL!
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