Space

The space between what's wrong and right

Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you

The space between your heart and mine

Is the space we'll fill with time
-Dave Matthews Band, The Space Between

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to see my son run his last high school cross country race. He placed seventh. Cross country has been a side-sport for him. It has served as extra-conditioning for the wrestling season, yet he has become quite the runner. Being dedicated to 6:00 a.m. summer practices at the age of eighteen says something, at least to me. The meet took place at a nice forest area with a lake. A perfect fall day. The trees a variety of autumn in color, the sun shining warm.

After Ethan finished the three-mile course, he walked quickly back to the team's meeting area, just like he usually does. At invitational meets, it can be quite crowded. Today's meet was only against one other school, so there was space. Space to be. Space to watch. I wanted to walk right up to him. I wanted him to see that I was there--that I was proud of him.

Remembering the text message between my husband and I just prior to the meet, made me slow down. It made me stop. I took a seat at a picnic table one area away from the team's drop-point. I sat, and I watched my boy. He took off his running tank and walked right up to an old, half-barren tree. Arms spread open and up, he leaned against the tree with the fading sun on his back. I knew he needed that time. Time to let that tree take away the unwanted and supply him with whatever could be offered and given. He'd prefer it to be seen more simply: he needed time to cool down. It's been an extra-busy and trying month for him. He needed space.

I just sat there. Tears brimming, yet not escaping my eyes, hidden behind my sunglasses. I wanted to say to him, "Life is just about to start for you. It's going to be hard, yet it's going to be so sweet too. Take the time to rest when needed. Replenish yourself--replenish your soul.You're a good person." Suddenly and softly, I could feel my energy changing. The day's anger and tension~gone. When our hearts are touched, we shift. We feel and know the truth. And nothing else seems to matter.

When it felt right, I walked over to him. As always, he thanked me for coming, and, as always, I annoyingly offered him a bottle of water (even though I knew he would not accept it). I told him that everything's good--everything's okay. I kissed his shoulder, and I left. Where did all the time go... Can I please hold it (and him) a while longer...

Earlier in the day, I was spent. It's oh-so-easy to lash-out and blame when we are in a state of frustration (especially, toward those we love most). I asked my husband for some space--for some quiet. As loud as this hardworking man can be - he is sensitive - and he still takes me personally. The crazy-writer-artist I'd like to think I am prefers to work in silence. The only guaranteed silence in our home is between midnight and 4:00 a.m.; even that is iffy.

Erik started a new job six months ago and has been working from home about seventy-five percent of the time. Needless to say, this has changed the dynamics of our home front, since he used to work mostly outside of our home. It has been a challenge for him, as well, to stay focused on work while at home. He is frequently popping in and being consumed by whatever domestic drama happens to be taking place at the time. It has been a challenge for everyone.

I've been a stay-at-home mom for a long time--maybe too long, according to some--and have been used to having the house to myself during the day while my kids are at school. Besides liking to be at home and on-call to help the daily routine run smoothly, I desperately need that alone time during the day to decompress and refuel. This has become an issue, yet who am I to complain. His job is paying our bills. I better appreciate that and adjust. Pronto! Instead of feeling like a retired couple, I should find the good...go write at the library...or get a job outside of the home during the day...right?


As long as I can remember I have liked being alone. My life started out a little early, and I spent my first three weeks "alone" in an incubator. Being alone is easy: no one to tip-toe around--no one to please. I find peace and healing in the quiet moments. I can feel myself become calm and centered. I can hear myself, once again. Don't get me wrong: I definitely need and treasure time with my family and friends. Although compatible timing can be tricky, as well.

Some hate to be alone: it makes them nervous. They start to think too much and then question themselves and their lives. They crave the distraction of company. They use another's drama to diffuse their own. Chaos becomes a comfort. An over-scheduled calendar insures this distorted comfort. I'm jealous of those people. I wish I could keep going and going without such a need for downtime.

I'm extremely empathetic, though: a little "too" in tune with what's going on around me. I can easily sense the energy (feelings) of people and I often get vibes about places. At times, I absorb this energy. At times, I do not want to know what I know. At times, I know more about a person than they are willing to admit about themselves. I may lack in common sense and street smarts, but I can look at something and tell you what's really going on. My tact and execution aren't always graceful, by any means. The social "know-it-all" becomes the social "misfit." I see the details, the connections, and beyond, without really having to look.

Because of this, I do need and like time alone. Time to process what I've taken in; time to let go what isn't mine. Until I learn how to better close myself off from another's energy, this is my way to cope. I can't go back to the incubator. This can be hard when you're in a family of five, and live in a social world. Personally, I think most people would benefit from more solitude, but asking for it seems selfish to many. I see it as exactly the opposite. Believe me, everyone benefits from my alone time.

Ethan's an empath too, but he's ahead of me. He is wise. He stays in his business and knows how to keep another at an appropriate and comfortable distance. He has boundaries. I can feel them. He respects himself; therefore, he naturally commands respect from others. He knows what he needs to feel and stay protected. He is clever, agreeable, and passive: using all as his armor on the outside. Yet, inside, he stays true to his awareness of kindness, and knows that we are all insane and loving in some way. Life just feels better with a little humor. I love to be around him. He has a way of staying on task, and always moving forward toward whatever the goal may be. He doesn't let much get him down; he doesn't waste time.

So, today taught me to give what I ask for. To allow a loved one room to be. Without me needing to be right-there-right-now in their life at the exact moment that I want to be. I will remain more aware of the invitations I receive from another to enter their space, or the lack of. I will take the time to feel if the time is the right time. Chances are, I already know.

And when requesting space, I'll work on my politeness. Maybe a little "I love you, but..." will help soften the heart. Or, maybe I just need to be a little more flexible by putting my earplugs in and doing what I need to do. After all, I have come to view interruptions as interventions. I'm thankful for the timing and the way my loved ones make me aware that what I just wrote needs some correction. My little helpers. All around.

In retrospect, I am glad that plans changed at the last minute, and that no one else was able to come to the meet. Since I was alone, I had the "moment" that I had, and that moment inspired me to write this blog post.

 ~ When our hearts are touched, we shift. We feel and know the truth. And nothing else seems to matter. ~

I LOVE YOU, E.


CLICK HERE for DailyOM's article, "Complementary Energies: Balancing Self with Family Life" 

CLICK HERE for DailyOM's article, "Hovering Around the Sun: Avoiding the Center"