From an evolutionary perspective, the human brain is obsessed with stability. We like categories, patterns, and certainty. They keep us safe.
Liminal states disrupt all three.
When we enter a threshold space — physical or psychological — the brain becomes hyper-aware.
We scan. We interpret. We search for meaning.
This is why:
- empty schools at night feel unsettling
- abandoned places feel haunted even when we know they are not
- transitional moments in life feel emotionally charged
Liminality strips away context. Without clear rules, the mind fills in the gaps.
And the mind is very good at imagining.
Liminality and Identity
Some of the most intense liminal experiences are internal.
Grief.
Trauma.
Major life changes.
Moments when your sense of self no longer fits.
Psychologically, identity is not a fixed thing — it is a narrative we continuously update. Liminal periods interrupt that narrative.
You may feel:
- detached from your old self
- uncertain about your values
- strangely open, raw, or unanchored
These states are often frightening — but they are also where transformation happens.
This is why so many stories place their characters in liminal conditions:
- the chosen one who does not want the role
- the survivor who no longer recognizes themselves
- the hero standing between light and darkness
Thresholds are where characters become real.
Why Stories Love the In-Between
Narrative thrives on tension, and liminality is tension.
A story without uncertainty is not a story — it is a description.
In fiction, liminal spaces allow writers to:
- explore moral ambiguity
- blur the line between good and evil
- question authority, gods, fate, or purpose
- let characters exist without clear answers
This is especially true in fantasy, psychological horror, and games, where worlds themselves often exist between realities.
We do not just consume these stories for entertainment.
We use them as simulations.
They let us safely explore:
- fear without danger
- loss without permanence
- identity without consequence
At least, that is what we tell ourselves.
Why We Seek the Liminal
There is a paradox at the heart of liminality.
We crave certainty — yet we are drawn to uncertainty.
We fear the unknown — yet we step toward it in stories, games, and art.
Why?
Because liminal spaces allow us to pause the pressure of being defined.
In the in-between:
- you are not expected to have answers
- roles can be questioned
- identities can dissolve temporarily
For a moment, you are allowed to simply be.
That permission is rare in ordinary life.
The Liminal Mind
This space — between psychology and story, reality and fiction, choice and consequence — is where The Liminal Mind lives.
Here, we will explore:
- why certain stories stay with us
- how fictional worlds shape real emotions
- what darkness in art reveals about the human psyche
- and why thresholds matter more than destinations
Some texts here will be analytical.
Some will be narrative.
Some will exist somewhere in between.
That, too, is intentional.
Because meaning is rarely found at the extremes.
It emerges at the edges.
At the threshold.