The space between two words, two sentences, two paragraphs.

The space between the sofa and the wall.

The space inside the pink rubber exercise ball.

The space between the house and the front gate.

The space between me and family.

The space in my brain.

The space between my right pinky and right ring finger.

The space in my heart.

The space in Central Park.

The Gobi Desert.

The space in the Forest Hills Austin St. Martha’s Bakery.

The open space.

Big space, closed space, contained space, safe space, dangerous space, difficult space, comforting space…

I need space.

I need space between the piano and me.

I need the space between my musical phrases to breathe.

I need space between my choir neighbor’s chair and mine.

I need space between my life and my mom’s life, my father’s life, my friends’ lives.

Give me space.

 

I sit at home on a Thursday afternoon, 4 pm.

It’s 4 pm and I am home, changed into my PJ’s, showered, and ready for my peaceful night.

“I didn’t practice today.”

“I didn’t do so well today in class.”

“I should’ve started that paper a little earlier than I did.”

“I should’ve …I would’ve… could’ve….” My thoughts drift.

I went downstairs to make myself a nice cup of English tea to wake myself up from the driftiness.

I sipped on my tea as I warmed my hands against the outside of the cup.

I looked at all the space I had in my room. A simple attic room, not too big, not too small. Just… perfect. I gave myself some space tonight.

Some space to breathe. To look around. Some space to digest and ponder.
I gave myself space to grow. Tomorrow will be a good day.