"Inhale, exhale, create, release, embrace, let go, explore, manifest, surrender...Him, her, goal, tree, flower, car, it, dream, dress, shoe, peach, painting, cheeseburger, building, dog, lamp, fan, fence, rock, blanket..."
The verbs and the nouns that fill our time and thoughts. The persistent subjects of our intention, actions and focus. We concentrate purposefully on the subject(s) of our attention, the surrounding matter becoming a distant blur. In art school this surrounding matter is known as negative space. Defined as; the space around and between the subject(s).
I've had a few months of transition, okay maybe a good solid year or so. Where my life has seemed to be changing, shifting, reinventing, moving. My physical surroundings all seemed to have one word in common. NEW. The gypsy, free spirit, vagabond, side of me thrives in this kind of environment. Invoking energy, perspective, passion, wonder, ambition, and raw excitement!
But then a week or so ago, I hit my wonder wall. Subject/stimulus overload. It surfaced for me as panic. I had no idea what to focus on. A million bright, shiny, sometimes old and dull, but still, NEW objects and subjects all vying for my attention. I've heard friends and people in passing talk about the same feeling.
Simply put: "I just don't know what to DO."
The fact is we live in an action and goal oriented society. If we are not DOING something, a quiet guilt slowly seeps in.
Then during a yoga class at Wanderlust, Kate ever so gently focused our awareness on a constant. It wasn't a verb or a noun, just a simple knowing and observing. She said:
"Notice the space at the top of your inhale, then notice the space at the bottom of your exhale."
I closed my eyes, focusing on the space, between my inhale and my exhale. As I did there was a kind of fluttering of light in those spaces of stillness. After class I felt a renewed peace. A sense of doing, just by being. I started noticing the beauty of space everywhere, and a new set of words began to settle in:
"space, light, stillness, vacancy, silence, air..."
For me, noticing this, alleviated the pressure of needing to know exactly what to DO. Quietly observing the stillness, somehow brought answers and a lightness to my life. In order for any action or idea to be created, it has to have space to exist.
The space between the leaves on a branch, the air that glides between them and allows the sunlight to cast a shadow on the grass below...