Sometimes I just come up with a blank. Nothing. Nothing comes to mind. Then it starts. Why am I drawing a blank? Is there nothing worth writing about? Followed by a search through the stack of books by my chair or a flip through my journal pages to see if there is anything I haven’t yet used.
And then…whoooaa grasshopper. Slow down. Maybe blank is good. Maybe blank is opening up space for…well, who knows what? Maybe I could use a little more space. Unfilled space. Open space. Just space.
I realize how precious little of it I have in my life. Most every day is filled to the brim. Even in my supposed solitude there is contemplation or writing or a frustrated effort at understanding. Sometimes, sitting in the chair, it’s all I can do to just quiet my mind for a minute or two or three.
Maybe today my soul is crying out. Give me some space!
Sigh…
Paula
