There’s a strange kind of clarity that lives between one life chapter ending and another beginning.
It’s not clean.
It’s not obvious.
It’s not comfortable.
But it’s sacred.

“Liminal” comes from the Latin limen, meaning threshold.
It is the space between — after the first door closes but before the next one opens.
The moment in a hallway with no name.
The breath you take before saying what you mean.
The pie cooling on the windowsill you’re not sure you belong near anymore.

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Why pie?

Because life’s transitions — even the messy, unresolved ones — are made of stories.
Shared. Savored. Cut into uneven slices.
Left out for someone who might show up late.

The “pie” is the moment of grace inside the in-between:
a gesture of care,
a symbol of nourishment,
a bit of sweetness offered in a season of uncertainty.

“We tell stories not because we have answers, but because we’re hungry for meaning.”

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What you’ll find here

liminalPie is a home for writing that dwells in thresholds.
Short reflections. Symbolic micro-stories. Glimpses of the unfinished.

Here, you'll find pieces that pause, linger, and look again —
not to explain the in-between, but to honor it.

The writing blends the personal with the poetic,
the psychological with the spiritual.

Whether you’re letting go, looking back, or learning to breathe in a new space,
you’re welcome here.

You don’t have to have it figured out.
You just have to be curious.

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A quiet invitation

Come sit. Read a slice or two. Reflect.
And maybe — when you’re ready — take something with you into whatever’s next.

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This is the part where there would usually be a button

But in keeping with the spirit of liminalPie, this site is still in its own threshold space —
not quite fully baked.

You're catching it mid-transformation, mid-migration, mid-mystery.

So, no neat bow.
No perfect next step.
Just an open doorway and a gentle nudge:

Come back when you feel the tug. We'll both be a little different by then.

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