On the threshold between September and October, a word rose through the mist.

The world itself feels strange this year. The air sharp with static, nostaglia thinned, everything too plastic, too surface. Misdirection everywhere, very much like the fog. We are living in the upside down.

The word was Liminance.

What is Liminance?

Liminance (noun): the dim glow carried through liminal spaces. Not a light that banishes the dark, but one that shows only the steps meant for you.

It is the lantern you hold when the path is fogged, a faint shimmer that carries you forward, not with certainty, but never without aim.

The Two Faces of Liminance

Seasonal ~ Most keenly felt on October evenings and November nights, lanterns on porches, fog curling low, footsteps crunching on damp leaves.  Liminance is that in-between light ~ not full day, not full night, just enough glow to guide a wytch through the thresholds of the season.

Emotional ~ Liminance also belongs to the soul. It names that survival state when grief, change or neurodivergence leaves you raw. Not enough fire to light the World, but enough to take the next step. A fragile glow that proves you are still moving, never aimless.

October Whisper

The season does not soften for me,

nor do i for it,

We meet in silence,

Shadow to shadow.

October does not ask for smiles,

I move like a ghost in her fog,

A dim lantern in hand, 

its light enough to find

the echo of footsteps from the past

or trace of those i choose to follow.

This is my October Liminance,

A glow that does not banish the dark,

but guides me through it.

 

Keeper's Note

I half blame Liadan ~ Poet, Ancestor, Guide, for slipping this word into my mouth. Or perhaps it was October itself, breathing through the dark. Either way, the word stayed.

Now it is here. Not as an old word, but as one found in the fog.

Closing Whisper

Liminance is not mine to hoard. If it speaks to you, take it. Write it into your pages. Whisper it when the fog is heavy. It belongs to the thresholds, not to me. 

First spoken into being at The Hallowed Nook, October Eve 2025

 

 

You don’t need to be whole to begin.

You don’t need to feel light, or aligned, or even remotely stable.

You just need a moment—a breath, a flicker of stillness—to remember you’re still here.

This post isn’t about pretending everything’s fine. It’s about building tiny, sacred anchors when everything feels like it’s slipping sideways. These rituals are made for the frayed, the grieving, the angry, the avoidant, and the deeply tired.

 

In other words: they’re made for real folk.

 

 

▪︎☆▪︎

 

Ritual 1: The “Not-Today-Anxiety” Handwash

 

Purpose: Clear mental fog. Reset spiraling thoughts.

 

Set a timer for 2 minutes.

 

Wash your hands with intention. Choose a scent that grounds you—herbal, earthy, spicy.

 

As you wash, speak (or think):

“I release what is not mine. I hold only what I choose.”

 

Breathe deeply. Watch the water spiral down the drain. That’s your overthinking. Let it go.

 

 

Tiny but mighty.

 

 

 

Ritual 2: The Floor Sit (aka: Grounding for When You’re Spiraling)

 

Purpose: Root your body when your mind wants to escape.

 

Sit on the actual floor. Yes, the floor. Your body needs earth contact.

 

Place one hand on your chest, one on the ground.

 

Say:

“I am not my panic. I am not my past. I am not gone. I am here.”

 

Close your eyes. Breathe in for 4, hold for 4, out for 6. Repeat 3 times.

 

 

You’re a tree. Trees don’t run. Neither do you.

 

▪︎☆▪︎

 

Ritual 3: The Soft Objects Altar

 

Purpose: Create safety and calm with what you already have.

 

Choose 3 comforting objects (scarf, stone, photo, book, whatever soothes).

 

Arrange them somewhere you can see—no rules, just resonance.

 

Light a candle or lamp beside them.

 

Each morning, sit in front of it and ask,

“What does my soul need today?”

Write one word down. No pressure. No follow-through needed. Just notice.

 

 

Soft magic. No performance. Just presence.

 

 

▪︎☆▪︎

 

Closing: Bring It Home

 

These rituals aren’t about fixing yourself.

They’re about remembering yourself.

 

You don’t have to feel magical to do Magick.

You don’t have to heal before you begin.

You just have to start. Even if your hands shake. Even if your shadow still has teeth.

 

The Hallowed Nook is here for the beautifully undone.

Come as you are. Leave with roots.