It’s scary to feel into space when you notice it. When the noise of the world does away and you close off to the distractions. When you open up to nature and the almost indiscernible symphony it brings. When life is quiet enough to hear a smile. Then, if you are forging ahead, then you feel a space. 

It’s neither good nor bad, just most likely foreign after a lifetime of stuffing yourself with food and your life with objects, your brain with stories and your body with labels. It’s foreign to feel all of what the space is not and yet know what it has always been there. 
And like all new spaces, the instinct is to stuff it back up. We kid ourselves that we’re personalising it, but what we’re doing is filling it with things that can happily distract us, offer happy noise, but noise all the same. 
But what if, the next time you caught a glimpse of this space, a gap, a silence, you sat in it. What if you didn’t pronounce yourself bored and make yourself sleep it away? What if you didn’t reach for your phone, iPad, book or music? What do you think you would hear? If it’s beautiful, why don’t you want to hear it? And if it’s not, why do you think quashing it will serve you in the long run?
I had one person once say to me that they didn’t want a reiki session with me because it would bring up emotions, too many emotions. She was avoiding a safe silence in which to feel them, preferring to balance on top of them as she always had. We all saw we crave a retreat, escapism, a way out sometimes. But we have to also acknowledge how much we sometimes run from exactly that. 
Our wish is right though, in the space we work out what is truly us and what are just stories. We work out where we’re headed and if we really want to be. In the space, we may hear the tears but we’ll also hear the joyful whispers of the fun that is yet to come. And to me, that joy in my world is worth every second of discomfort in space. Is it to you? 

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