Liminality – The London Druid

Worried-looking grey cat in front of a stormy sky with lightning, next to a yellow warning sign that reads “Friday the 13th”.

The calendar tells me it’s Friday the 13th. For many, this date carries an uneasy twinge – a day of ill luck, caution, or strange occurrences. Its reputation is rooted more in modern Western superstition than in ancient tradition, but as a Druid, I always find these cultural touchstones an interesting mirror of our collective psyche.

Numbers have always held meaning for humans. Thirteen unsettles some because it falls just outside the neat symmetry of twelve – twelve months, twelve zodiac signs, twelve hours on a clock face. Thirteen feels like a step beyond the known order, a hint of wildness. In that sense, it speaks rather beautifully to those of us who walk liminal paths. Druidry, after all, often dwells in those thresholds – neither one thing nor the other, but the rich space in between.

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It slips into conversation without ceremony. Six-ish, we say, or blue-ish, or done-ish, and with that single syllable, we soften the word. Ish is a quiet rebellion against precision – not as an escape, but as a gesture of truth told in layers. It leaves space. It breathes. It understands the world rarely fits clean lines.

I’ve long been drawn to ish, perhapds before I even noticed it. It was always there, padding around the edges of certaintly like a fox in twilight, saying: not quite, but close. it isn’t a cop-out. It isn’t indecision. It’s something gentler, something liminal. The shimmering place where something mostly fits, but not entirely. A way of honouring what almost is, without forcing it to become what it is not.

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Tag: Liminality

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