The Liminal Zone: Hurricane Helene Edition

A ninety-minute experience. Sunday, October 6, 10am eastern. Zoom.

The liminal zone is the space between an ending and a new beginning. A space of unknowing and ambiguity.

We’re in it, St Pete. We’re in it, Florida. We’re in it, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina. The devastation of Hurricane Helene has left many of us feeling rudderless.

Liminal zones can feel jarring, to say the least (don’t let the door hit you on the way out, Helene). I won’t pretend this is easy. I’ve struggled a lot personally, and the damages I sustained were minor. But, I’m a liminal zone guide, which means I spend time with people in the in-between for a living (we have lots of these moments, though not all of them feel quite so chaotic). And there are tools you can use to not only make them a little less painful, but to start to see your way to new possibilities.

Liminal zones are all around us. Twice a day, we naturally enter a liminal zone between sleep and wake. That’s when our brains are the most free. And in architecture, a liminal zone is a space between two functional spaces: yards, front porches, piazzas, beaches… all liminal zones.

My name is Amy Bonsall, and I’ve been personally affected by Hurricane Helene as I lost access to my home in Florida. I’ll be your guide for this experience, where we’ll cover ways to make this time a little less fraught, maybe even with a dollop of hope. And mostly, we'll spend time with other people in the liminal zone.

(Here’s what I wrote just after Helene hit: It’s okay not to be okay.)