What I Found in The "Space" Between

In 2017 I wrote about how I created more space in 2017, and below is the follow up I wrote in 2018 about what I found, and what I still find to be true when you make space by removing alcohol.

Now is the time I share what I found in this space. 

First off, I truly believe the reason space was given to me in 2017 was because this is what my soul needed. Before I began a meditation or yoga practice, or lets get real, whenever I was freaking overwhelmed with life’s little edgy pieces laying around like some perverse obstacle course and I needed a few seconds to breathe, I would quiet myself enough to ask, ‘what do i need’. Each and every time I heard “SPACE”.  

What I found in the “space” was expansive bright whiteness. The kinda brightness that makes everything all blurry. In the center of my visual field was an elegantly wrapped gift like one my mom would wrap for me with all the love and intention in the world. Each piece of double sided tape adhered in the perfect place to connect all the sides with geometric precision. A handmade bow sits on top. It’s ribbon had been measured 5 times as long as the area of the package so there would be enough for all the loops, twists and turns mimicking the cochlea and canals of the inner ear. It’s the kind of package you don’t want to unwrap. 

The package itself is gift enough.

I see myself gently pick up the package with all of it’s right angles and stroke the shiny smooth paper with the palm of my hand. I ever so slightly pull on the sharp edge of the midnight blue paper popping open the side. I am ever so careful not to wrinkle or tear the sheet. I work my way to the opposite side repeating what I had done before, popping open the edge. I delicately place the gift on it’s back and remove one last piece of tape. I slip both hands palm down under the silky paper brushing the inside layer. A quick shiver spreads over my body leaving goosebumps like teeny-tiny sudsy bubbles along my skin. I open my arms in unison rotating the palms up as if I am offering this special something to the gods allowing the wrapping paper to fall to the floor. 

I am exposed. I am the gift.