It Was a Liminicious Year Indeed

“A threshold is not a boundary to be defended, but a space to be entered.” – John O’Donohue

As many of you know, one of my annual rituals is choosing self-created word for the year. It has become an important grounding ritual, not because it predicts what will happen, but because it helps me pay attention differently, and in doing so, shapes how I move through whatever arrives.  This word, held intentionally, becomes a compass – something to return to when clarity fades or when the path feels less certain.

My word for 2025 was liminicious, a Latin-inspired blend of liminal (threshold, in-between space) and -icious (full of, characterized by). I chose it anticipating a season of transition, particularly as I stepped into an interim Department Chair leadership role. What I didn’t fully appreciate at the outset was just how alive, demanding, and formative that in-between space would be; not just professionally, but personally.

As the year unfolded, liminicious became less a description and more a posture. It reminded me that thresholds are not problems to solve, but spaces to inhabit. Living in the “deliciousness of liminal space” meant resisting the urge to rush toward resolution or certainty. Instead, it invited attentiveness: listening more deeply, experimenting thoughtfully, trusting intuition, and allowing myself to be shaped by the work even as I was shaping it. Interim leadership, by nature, holds a paradox: real responsibility paired with impermanence. Yet it was precisely that ambiguity that clarified my values, sharpened my self-awareness, and accelerated my growth. 

Of course, liminal spaces are not unique to leadership transitions. Many of us live in them more often than we realize; between roles, identities, seasons of life, or versions of ourselves. These in-between times can feel uncomfortable or disorienting, which is why we’re often tempted to try and ignore them, numb them, rush through them, or overly manage them. And yet, when entered with intention, liminal spaces can become powerful sites of learning, recalibration, and connection.

As this liminicious year comes to a close, I’m struck by how much it has reshaped not just how I lead, but how I understand impermanence itself. My interim role formally ended earlier this month, yet what remains is not a sense of arrival, but a deeper trust in the in-between.  And now, as I turn toward 2026 and the word lumeniferous, I sense an invitation not to produce light, but to carry it—gently, humbly, and without illusion of permanence.

The poem that follows, written as I stepped out of my interim role, became an unexpected bridge for me across the New Year; a way of honoring the truth that leadership, identity, and even life itself are far more interim than we like to admit, and that embracing the liminality of our interim-ness may be exactly what frees us to live, and lead, with greater courage, presence, and light.  How about you?  Where in your life are you more “interim” than you’ve recognized?  How might embracing that realization allow you to live more “lumeniferously” in 2026?  Let’s go there together.

Interim

It’s

    in between ...

     temporary ...

     a place holder ...

the end date

is uncertain

but you know

there’s one

coming.

Kind of like life

in so many ways.

In reality

we’re all

interim

here

and the

sooner

we embrace

that

the sooner

we can

get on

with it

as if

we’re

not

.

.

.