Liminal Spaces to Think of When Trying to Sleep (Instead of Counting Sheep)

How many sheep are there?

With every toss and turn, you increment your sheep counter by one. Suddenly, you feel more awake than ever before. As each sheep lightly hops over the fence, your mind begins to wander, questions popping up at a speed faster than the sheep themselves. Where are they going? Where did they come from? Is it just the same circle of ten sheep repeating again and again? Why sheep? How long until I sleep?

A device that is very close to the bed

Whether it’s the night before a vacation or just a regular school day, it’s always been difficult for me to calm my mind and fall asleep. I’ve heard that it’s easier if you turn off your devices a couple of hours before going to bed. However, when our laptops hold so much of our lives and our phones carry our alarms, devices also take up a lot of real estate in our minds. Maybe it’s because of this—the mechanical feeling of electronics—that counting sheep hasn’t been an effective tool to help me fall asleep. The neverending cycle of sheep parallels the loading symbols of webpages and the perpetual stream of appointments, meetings, and Zoom calls. 

Instead of tallying up sheep, I’ve found that it’s much more effective to imagine calm moments that quiet the mind and spur some feelings of nostalgia! This blog post was inspired by a video on my YouTube feed. It’s really short (1.5 minutes) and I would recommend watching it with the volume on before continuing below! I’m not sure why I originally clicked on it—maybe it was the click-baity promise of bringing back childhood memories—but I didn’t regret it after because the video puts you into a really mysterious, whimsical headspace.

A transitional space

Before I share some of my favorite moments to imagine when falling asleep, I thought it would be interesting to explore the definition of a “liminal space” since I didn’t recognize the term at first. A quick Google search returns that it’s “an aesthetic that refers to the feeling of being in a transitional space that has been abandoned.” A liminal space is sort of like a waiting room between one space and the next—a place where time seems to temporarily freeze. A split second where you neither belong to the past or the future. 

An empty dorm hallway (not Wayne State, I think)

When I watched the video, I felt a strange feeling, like I was somewhere that used to have a lot of activity. I think it’s easiest to understand this concept with examples! A couple of years ago, I traveled to Detroit for a conference and stayed in a dorm room at Wayne State University along with other students. One day, my roommate was craving some Oreo cookies, so we decided to explore our floor for a vending machine. The dorms were vibrantly decorated with green and yellow (the school colors). It seemed like the sound of laughter or soft conversation would emerge from any of the doors that were ajar at any second, but we only heard the echo of our footsteps. Even though it was mid-July, we felt goosebumps as we wandered through halls that were now empty after being inhabited by students during the year.

An art gallery with chairs

Another interesting example I read about was art galleries. If you’ve ever been in a gallery alone—especially one with furniture—you might have felt like you didn’t belong there. That’s because galleries are designed to imitate rooms, but nobody lives there, resulting in an odd space. Schools are also liminal spaces. During the summer, wandering through the halls of NNHS feels a little strange because you would expect it to be filled with chattering students and teachers. 

Even though liminal spaces can make you feel a little uneasy, I feel like they are the optimal scenes to imagine in order to fall asleep at night. Here are a few of my favorites:

Driving on the highway at night.

Is this why Mack fell asleep in Cars?

The blur of street lights flickers through your heavy eyelids and the muffled sound of voices filters through the radio, intermingling with white noise. Highways are a transitional space between an origin and a destination. The repetitive way that a car passes road advertisement may seem similar to counting sheep, but it’s much more calming since it doesn’t involve focus… only observation.

Sunset!

Looking out the window of a plane as the sun sets.

Scattering light beams paint the sky in deep streaks of red and pastel shades of orange. The cold feeling of the glass that separates you from the clouds lingers on your fingertips. You know that there is nowhere to go, that your journey is in the hands of the pilot—all the more reason to fall asleep while enjoying the beautiful colors.

Sitting in a bus shelter when it’s raining.

The one with an umbrella has double protection from rain!

As you’re sleeping, you might only be able to control your sight, but there’s no reason why you can’t imagine controlling your other senses as well! This scene is ideal for rainy days, where you can pretend that the rain against your window is the same rain that patters against the ceiling of the bus shelter. As the storm pours in every direction around your small 2 by 4 foot space, you feel protected.

By imagining moments like these, you will be able to engineer a full night of rest in no time! Maybe you’ll even condition your mind to continue dreaming about the location even after nodding off.

Works Cited:

Thomas, J. (2018, March 13). Understanding how liminal space is different from other places. Retrieved February 05, 2021, from https://www.betterhelp.com/advice/general/understanding-how-liminal-space-is-different-from-other-places/

Why You Should Get Your Mail at Nighttime!!

Rain, shine, or snow, getting the mail has been the highlight of my day in recent months.

A pretty view!

I recommend retrieving mail between 4:30pm and 6:00pm. What I once viewed as a monotonous chore transforms into an adventure at night. There’s nothing like the feeling of being alone just minutes after dusk, braving the bitter wind to trek down a trail into the unknown. During these hours, the sky is a dark cloak of velvet with tiny, poked holes where starlight shines through. The longer I linger there—shivering on my driveway—the more stars my eye is able to discern. As my cheeks grow numb to the cold air and I embrace my inner Leonard Mead, I’m able to understand why the ancient Greeks believed that the sky was a celestial sphere.

A thought that puts things into perspective.

While exercising is a great strategy to take your mind off of stressors, I think that venturing outside in the evening is even more relieving because it puts you into a mindset of being an ant in the wilderness, tiny compared to your surroundings. The nagging feeling of knowing that I have hours of homework, college applications, and extracurriculars ahead of me quickly disappears to the back of my mind. Recently, I’ve experienced a lot of personal anxiety about how this year determines the rest of my life, so this feeling of being one with my environment has been humbling—a sense of stability that I depend on each day. This may not be the same for everyone, but I feel comfort knowing that my choices this year are really insignificant in the course of world events.

This is what the back of your mail box sees.

The mail itself has been a highlight as well! Carrying the stack of papers through the dark back to my front porch is like an uncontained mystery. I’m sure all of us have been receiving stacks of letters and pamphlets from colleges recently. Although they carry similar messages, I think that the best part about these is seeing the high definition images of campuses, smelling the musty scent of fall leaves or hearing the sound of laughter in the dining hall. As the holidays quickly approach, the number of USPS and Amazon packages have increased at my house. I’m not sure what makes opening boxes so much fun (given that we already know their contents), but slicing through the tape with a pair of scissors and removing the bubble wrap is a therapeutic experience.

Festive decorations.

Speaking of a not-so-therapeutic experience, I’ve heard that it’s hard to refrain from checking your college decision the second it’s released on your portal. After reading a post about practicing mindfulness, I urge you to apply a similar mindset to opening mail. It’s worth the wait until the evening! You can even spice up your journey to your mailbox by humming a song or admiring your neighbours’ holiday decorations.

The peacefulness of traveling alone.

I read an article before about the benefits of traveling alone, which include a cheaper trip and increased independence. I wholeheartedly agree, recalling moments where I’ve had conversations with myself while flying on a plane alone and made decisions for where to eat lunch without having to worry about another person’s opinion. During a year where travel is rarer to come by, it can be equally as relaxing to take your time getting mail on a street where few people are out during the evening.

The Novelty of Click-Bait YouTube Thumbnails

Our interests converge more than we think

During the holiday season, YouTube becomes a sanctuary for many. Whether you’re searching for the perfect stuffing recipe the night before Thanksgiving or binge-watching “Day in the life of a student at _____” videos, it can feel comforting to open YouTube.com and be greeted with a vast grid of videos tailored to your specific interests. With over 2 billion accounts, it’s incredible to imagine the diversity of YouTube feeds that exist. It can be even more interesting to wonder about the amount of recommended pages similar to yours. In a society where individualism is valued, how unique are your interests and personality? How many of us would fall for the same click-bait?

What makes YOU tick? (or click)

Successful YouTube channels tend to have a high click-through rate, which refers to the ratio of viewers who take the time to click on a video out of those who have the video appear while scrolling. One of the most important characteristics of a video that influences its click-through rate is the first impression—the thumbnail.

How it turned out!

When I was tasked with creating the thumbnail for a video earlier this summer, the blank grid seemed a lot larger than 1280×720 pixels. I realized that not every picture has one thousand words. Instead, it’s a matter of optimizing the space you have in comparison with similar videos. We entered our video into a contest—one where votes mattered—which meant that I needed to conduct some serious research before adding anything to our thumbnail. Along the way, I found many intuitive suggestions I’ve never thought of before, many of which I began to recognize as a recurring pattern on my feed.

Does this anger look genuine?

If there’s anyone in AP Lit with the goal of becoming YouTube famous, consider a few tips below to craft the most eye-catching thumbnail!

  1. Closeups of extremely expressive faces: once you identify your video’s focus and mood, you can take your content to the next level with your facial expression. Is your video happy? Then you can appear over-the-top overjoyed. Is your content angry? In your thumbnail, be red-in-the-face livid. Interestingly, studies show that more is not merrier, recommending to limit thumbnails to a maximum of three faces.

    The clashier, the better!

  2. Use complementary colors: use yellow where you can! As the color associated with school buses, wealth, and road signs, yellow is undeniably eye-catching. Although it’s discouraged to wear yellow to interviewers in order to avoid being remembered for (only) your outfit, bright colors are your best friend when it comes to YouTube thumbnails, but only if they don’t clash.
  3. Experiment with unique camera angles: here’s your chance to take on the perspective of an ant, a bird, or anything you imagine! With an angle that catches a viewer’s attention, you might be able to boost your click-through rate. Who knows, you might become the next YouTube trendsetter. 

A warped perspective

As a viewer, we should consider analyzing our own behavior as we peruse YouTube’s videos. I think it’s really interesting to pause in the middle of my browsing and ask myself questions like “Why did I watch this video?” and “Do I regret watching this video?” These insights can put you into the mind of a YouTube creator.

Foodstagram: How My Friends and I Eat Lunch Together in 2020

Our page’s feed: a diverse selection of dishes

Out of Zoom fatigue, speculation, and a burning admiration for Gordon Ramsay, six foodies were born. On the first day of our senior year, my friends and I started a food Instagram account on a whim. Together, we’ve been posting pictures of our lunches each day: our virtual adaptation of sitting next to each other in the small cafe. Despite changing circumstances with the pandemic, many of our dynamics remain the same: we’re each still engrossed in completing as much math homework as possible during our lunch hour and eating tasty foods.

Connecting food (or drinks) to our emotions

Our food account has kept us sane during school, giving us a sprinkle of fun on otherwise monotonous days. It’s become a routine for me: last minute cramming of math notes before a quiz followed by a brief trip to Instagram. Everyday, I look forward to seeing what my friends had for lunch and to share my own food with them. 

Most days, once classes and extracurricular activities are finished, I shut down my computer, desperate to find an escape from the 7-12 hours of video calling. The green light, indicative that my camera is on, is a subtle source of stress, a constant reminder that I’m being watched. I’m sure that all of us feel Zoom dread to some degree. While it’s been harder to regularly stay in touch with my friends, our food account has served as a reminder for us to stay connected in the midst of classes, extracurriculars, and college applications.

A riveting conversation thread!

Each of us have added subtle aspects of our personality into the account. While Rachel, Jubin, and Irene keep their captions short, sweet, and to the point, Alice demonstrates her attention to detail by recording the time she eats as well as compelling conversation starters, including fun facts about hotdogs. While Jessie goes ham with the emojis, I add locations that reflect my mood (or food) such as “Hold on tight” and “How to fry an egg using water”. Although I’m unable to catch up with my friends face to face each day, their quirky caption styles remind me of the jokes we used to share in person during lunch.

There’s no better pairing than steles and pork dumplings

Not only has our account functioned as a means of connection, but it has also been very informative. You would think that I would be pretty familiar with my friends’ cuisine after having lunch with them daily for three years! Surprisingly, this account has exposed me to several completely new foods. Some notable items include egg jello, butternut squash pasta, and the very first food posted: one (1) small (xs) pizza. I’ve been building a “bucket list” of foods to try based on their recommendations! 

Aside from food, we’ve taken advantage of Instagram’s story features to share glimpses into our day to day. Through Instagram’s poll option, we quiz each other: “Is this MVC problem gross?” Through stories, we post updates about our classes to share with each other. Our account has become a (hopefully temporary) replacement for eating lunch together with my friends at school. Although it’s pretty fun, I’ll admit that I miss the tasty food smells and their company.