Reflecting on the importance of space
Editor’s note: For me, Lyssa, this was the third sign in a series of signs about the notion of “space.”
By Robyn Whyte, who writes at Robyn Writes. First published on her own blog.
A member of my book club challenged each of us to write a “This I Believe” essay for our December meeting, and several of us actually did it! We had wonderful essays on the value of traveling to open the mind, of diversity in small towns, public education, and even the value of book club friends. And, I wrote about my faith in space…
I believe in space…not so much in outer space as in space closer to home. I believe in room, enough room to move around, stretch out, growing room. Adherents of space are both anti-clutter and anti-confinement.
I believe every home should have a few empty cabinets, an empty drawer or two standing ready for whatever may come. Closets stuffed to the gill bring on depression that is alleviated only by a purge. Goodwill exists for the likes of me.
My deep faith in space makes it difficult to tolerate crowds, crawl through tunnels, work in a cubicle, share a double bed, or submit to an MRI. Whenever possible, I will always choose the most spacious stall in any public restroom. My worst nightmare involves anything hinting at being trapped.
I believe not only in physical space but also mental space. Who doesn’t find delight in a spacious mind? How does anyone function effectively in this confusing and confounding world without access to open spaces in their mind? I must fairly consistently step out of my beliefs, opinions, attitudes and perspectives in order to breathe, not to mention learn anything new and refreshing.
I believe in spiritual space, wide-open spiritual space. Perhaps my space craving is rooted in an intense desire for expansion. I like to wake up each day knowing there is room for more … not more stuff, god forbid, but for more awareness, consciousness, acceptance and yes, even love.
Confinement and clutter shut me down. Nothing feels better than breaking free of a cocoon, an outdated restrictive belief, a prison of my own making, a dogma that has kept me in chains. I run from orthodoxy as if it were the pox.
The older I get, the more space I crave. Space, being tantamount to freedom, leaves Life’s door wide open. No boundaries.