How do you create your own space?
Space. It can mean many things—the dimensions of height, depth, and width within which all things exist and move; a continuous area or expanse which is free, available, or unoccupied.
We take up space when we’re in a room the second we enter it, whether we realize it or not. The way in which we enter, the height at which we hold our heads, the eye contact we make, the timber and timidness of our voice—these all take up space.
We craft our homes and workspaces into bits of warmth and of light, little incubators that allow us to flourish, to rest, and to grow. It’s easy to make a space where we are able to lay our heads, to nourish our bodies, to put ideas onto paper and dreams into action. We are able to hold items in our hands that have every intention of helping our heartsz—a pillow, a table, a notebook full of blank paper.
These are easily measured. Observed. Visible to those who are paying attention.
But what about the space that we cannot see? The space for love, for hope, for hurt, for vulnerability? How do we create that within ourselves, and with one another?
Perhaps it’s about staying open.
When we leave ourselves open to hope, to love, and to hurt, we close the space tighter around the roots of intimacy.
It’s scary to hope and it’s scary to love because it’s heartbreaking to be let down. I get that, I do. But a world with hope and love is far brighter than one without. The intimate moments where we have the potential to be hurt is where we can create the most space for the things we cannot see – for if we’re able to stay open in those moments, our capacity to love and hope can grow.
When we share a piece of ourselves that the world cannot see, we’re creating a space to learn, a space where the things we cannot see can grow.
How do we create the space for growing our heart, our minds, and our spirit?
We stay open in the face of what scares us.