Making Space

In a society where fullness and success is equal to the amount of “stuff” you can pack into a day and a life, I’ve been doing some mindful thinking about “emptying” out some things to make some space.

Really, this practice started with the onset of quarantine this spring.

We were all jarred from our “normal” and left to question what are the activities we truly value, and who are the people we truly crave and need in our lives. We slowed down, simplified, spent more time at home, and opened up space in our lives — even if we didn’t really want to or choose to. 

This has looked different for everyone, and continued or ceased to varying degrees. But the reality is, everything changed in some way for all of us back in March. And we are left either nursing wounds and healing from traumas, and/or examining what this “new normal” looks like and trying to fill in gaps with what we know between what we don’t know. (Maybe we are left with all of the above.)

I had a beautiful conversation recently with my friend whom I admire deeply. Kendra has been through the ringer this year, with unparalleled struggles and challenges amidst what’s been an overall bitter and tense year for most of the world with uncertainties. She has been going through a journey with breast cancer during a world-pandemic, and experiencing transitions in her entrepreneurial businesses as well. Through it all, she is one of the most positive, inspiring individuals I am honored to know, and keeps reevaluating what new opportunities lie on the horizon.

We talked about clearing space, and leaving space, in a simple analogy about cleaning out the fridge. You know when life gets busy and you have barely been able to make food at home, or you let those leftovers sit in the fridge for well past their consumption point? Well, there comes a time when we have to open the door, acknowledge that we missed our opportunity to use the produce and eat the food, and toss it. It needs to be cleared out. It’s done, it’s no good, and it’s gone bad. Toss.

The impulse (for me, and many of us) in this situation is first: to blame ourselves and gripe about wasting food; and then to make a list of things I “need” and go to the grocery store to fill the shelves again with renewed intentions to Make All The Food and Do Better.

But what if we don’t immediately rush to fill the open shelves? What if we re-examine what we are left with, and decide to get creative? What if we remember that we actually have a whole pantry of food as well, and can find ways to hold off on the impulse to immediately refill the fridge?

It’s uncomfortable to be left with space. It forces us to look at what is left outside of the immediate and cursory view of our needs. We need to get creative with what we have, and see that life can and will go on, and our bellies and minds will not starve. 

Just in the last four weeks, after months of planning for my new school year with my voice studio, I had five students fall off from my roster last minute. Five spots. I had been planning on the return of several students from last year, and the starting of a few new ones I had been in communication with for a few months. And then bam. Nope. Not returning. 

It hit me hard. My first thought was frustration, followed by a deep seeded insecurity (what did I DO wrong? Why don’t they like me!?). Then came panic and worry about what that means for my planned income. And then the intense urge to immediately start marketing and seek out as many new students as possible to Fill Up Space in my allotted spots.

As I’ve sat with this new openness, I’m coming to see that it’s not the worst. We will be okay financially. The space is giving me a chance to have openness on weeknights where I would normally be crammed into mental focus from 3:45-8:00 pm. It’s lightened my load. And I can focus on filling space with the quality students that really truly want to learn and continue in this path of music with me. 

Another way I’ve been challenging myself to be ok with space is by deleting Facebook from my phone. I’ve found myself mindlessly scrolling for upwards of hours cumulatively on and off throughout most days, with nothing of substance to show for it. What could that space in my day allow for me to do instead? What do I gain from feeling frustrated and depressed by political posts and caustic comments on threads of divisive vitriol? Nothing. Clear it out. Be done with it. Toss it. It’s gone bad.

In the month of September, I’ve also made a challenge for myself to stop drinking alcohol. Like so many during this stressful year, I’ve settled into a habit of a few glasses of wine most nights of the week, and although I don’t think that’s the worst thing, I feel like I could do with a break from it mentally and physically. So I’ve shifted focus to other habits in the evening for unwinding. What does this space look like? It may look like ice cream sometimes, or a cup of hot tea. Maybe it’s an earlier bedtime, or sparkling water in a pretty glass. Although I really miss wine every night, I’m glad to be doing this experiment (with two planned breaks – a wedding, and a special date 9/26).  

As we lead into a new season, I challenge you to consider what making space can look like in your life. Maybe you work to create space where you’ve felt stifled and overwhelmed. Or maybe you simply re-evaluate what the space looks like that’s been left in the wake of this year of pandemic and stress. 

We can choose to do with the space whatever we want.

““You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll decide where to go…” 

– Dr. Seuss from “Oh the Places You’ll Go”