Hideout
 

Liminal space is a transition, a borderland. It's when, for a split second, our pulse seems to stop, we become zero. This is where Alice falls in the rabbit hole, this is where she touches the bottom with her heel, this is the lowest point of the crisis's parabola. This is when the weapons are laid down and the obsessive state of struggle collapses. And peace finally arrives.

Why do we need liminality? Liminality is a point of rest. The point of rest is a term taken from cranial osteopathy, but the state of the psyche and body belongs to the person, not the approach. Only from there is transition possible. It is the collapse of past and future, from the silence of which a vibrant present is born. It is pure potential, where the wounds of soul and body are healed, healing occurs, and everything that is destined to continue to exist within us is revived. It is Zero, between A and B. The point of rest is possible for our psyche, for our body, for our relationships, for our whole self. I work well with liminality, and my focus is on the point of stillness. If you trust me, I can be your point "zero" on the bridge from this shore to you.

With age and experience, I've come to see my limitations, both as a specialist and, more importantly, as a person. My focus now shifts from tweaking, fixing, and improving, to this reset, this point of peace where a person gains the opportunity to switch to a state of wholeness, restoration of body and soul, a place of care, clarity, connection, and belonging to oneself. This shift occurs not only in the psyche, emotions, and soul, but also in the nervous system, muscles, hormones, facial expression, voice, attitudes and focus, thinking patterns and narratives—in absolutely everything. Furthermore, I believe in the potential of the individual to heal and change.

And the most healing thing is shifting to a position of acceptance, but this isn't just about accepting yourself and reality without illusions, but about allowing yourself to receive, to step out of the endless cycle of "giving." But even here, things aren't so simple. On the surface, we come for help, but we "take" this help, not "receive." This is directly related to losing control and reclaiming vulnerability as the best thing that can happen to us. This is a completely different vibration, both emotionally and physically. This state can only be regained from a place of peace. Only at this point can the body recover, and all the insights necessary for decision-making can come.

It doesn't matter whether I pick up a needle, moxa, or a rebozo scarf, whether my hands will oil my skin and muscles, whether we talk in the context of psychotherapy, or through grief, or whether I will care for you in a Sacred Swaddling ceremony. We will still walk hand in hand toward a point of peace. And if we find it, then there, in this liminal space, all you and I will need is trust in the unknown. And the salt water itself will push us to where we need to go.