The Heirloom Edit №5
November's update on liminal times and spaces
Like most people who tend to hyperfixate on things, I’ve recently found myself drawn to a particular word: liminal.
It first caught my attention in an Instagram reel about Samhain, a festival I researched and wrote about for my manuscript. The creator (@mrs_mandyann) described November as a “liminal time,” and I just loved that. Since then, the word has appeared again and again, as words often do when they have something to tell us.
Oxford defines liminal as “occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.” Yes, this.
This is a liminal time—in my life, in my family, in the country, in the world, and, of course, in nature. I feel very much like I’m not where I was, but I’m not yet where I’m going. A big parenting milestone is ahead with our oldest son sending in his early decision and action applications to colleges. Cumulatively There are many unknowns in both my personal and professional life.
As we plan the potential next (maybe even last!) steps of our home renovation, I’ve been thinking about how “liminal” applies there too. A home under construction is its own kind of threshold that’s part promise and part chaos. You live among the dust and drop cloths, able to almost see the finished space but still tripping over extension cords and power tools. We’ve spent many years doing just that. It’s messy and uncomfortable, but it’s also the necessary middle—the place where vision and patience meet.
November itself is a threshold between autumn’s abundance and winter’s quiet, between light and darkness, between what has been and what’s up ahead. The trees outside my window are almost bare, yet somehow, they look ready—like they understand that rest is part of growth. An important lesson I’m still trying to fully absorb.
In my last note I shared that I’d been dealing with some ongoing issues from my autoimmune disease. Thank you so much for the kind messages of support that followed, it truly means so much. As of now, the symptoms eased as inexplicably as they appeared, so things are better now. Of course, without an explanation, it’s not exactly a solution. It’s fitting with this theme, yet another thing in-between—healing is rarely linear.
As the days grow shorter, I’m trying to honor this quiet pause between what was and what’s to come—to light candles, to slow down, to give thanks. I hope you can find a little of that peace, too, wherever you are in your own liminal spaces.
With gratitude,
If you enjoyed this peek into what’s inspiring me lately, please tap the ♡ or leave a note below. Your thoughts always make this space feel more like a conversation!
Here’s a little collection of things I’m loving this month! Some of the links in this section may be affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you choose to make a purchase, at no extra cost to you. I only ever share things I truly love and would include in my own home or routines. Thank you for supporting my work in this small but meaningful way!
Block Print Tablecloth
This pretty block print table is perfect for a Thanksgiving Tablescape and neutral enough to last you through all of the colder months.
Recipe Box
This wooden box can hold all of your secret family recipes, whether they’re new or old.
Gold Flatware
Our nearly twenty-year-old flatware is showing its age, so I have my eye on this gold set!
Weyward by Emilia Hart
Although it takes place in the spring, there’s something cozy about this witchy page-turner. I especially like the triple timelines!
Twisted Green Tapers
A more modern and fresh take on the trend of twisted tapers in a pretty sage green perfect for Thanksgiving and the holiday season.
Etched Water Goblets
My grandfather recently handed down some etched glasses and a pitcher that may have belonged to his mother or grandmother, and they looked just like this! I’m excited to build on the collection.