Space

I look at my calendar, two months have flown by. Where have they gone? What have I done? A lot, and still nothing.  I look again and try to find space. Before I know it, it will be May. It is only the start of March and yet each block is filled, committed.

It is so easy to add tasks to the spaces.  Easy to say, “Sure I can do that.” Easy to lose a sense of what could happen in the space I don’t have.  Recently I’ve noticed that on many days I’m booked.  Back to back appointments with no space in between.  One flows into or overlaps the next. Bathroom breaks, luxuries; eating, at my desk, on the fly, while answering email, the norm.

I arrive through congested roadways with cars edging for any opportunity to nose ahead. There is no space, or it is taken advantage of by the quick and opportunistic. And after a day where appointments are no better than highways I make my way home, joining the crowd jockeying for position, in the hope to wait one light less, and arrive two minutes faster.

The nudging and edging makes time implode upon itself, a black hole; until a friend stops and asks, “Are you excited about it? What you are doing? Yesterday I was 50 and this year I’ll be 65. Where did it go?”

Space! I worked to fill it and didn’t realize that sooner or later it will be gone, or there will be too much and I won’t be able to engage it with a smile.  Now is the time I have, to make the space, and instead of filling it, to hold it open and allow the beauty that is mine to claim, to be there; to fill it. So I acknowledge my part.  I have to protect it.  I have to allow it. I have to do my part and create it.  It is nowhere, and yet it can be everywhere.  Space.