This column appeared first in The Transylvania Times, serving Transylvania County in western North Carolina.Spaces arrive in unexpected ways: when a loved one dies, we lose our job, a marriage ends, we retire…
Like you, spaces of all kinds have opened for me over the years.
When I’m 10 years old, my friend Sara’s dad suddenly dies at the community center where we gather and swim. After playing handball in a windowed court we peer into, Mr. Stevens collapses at the water fountain.
His death shocks his wife, his oldest daughter Sara, her four younger siblings, and the wider community. Her dad’s unexpected passing echoes in his family beyond grandma moving in, her mom returning to school, and the family’s relocation to an affordable apartment.
At the same time, her dad’s loss echoes within my thoughtful, wiry frame. I’m her sensitive friend who deeply feels what I feel, supporting Sara as I can, swimming laps where her dad passed. With each stroke, I see her dad slump lifelessly to the floor, feeling for my friend’s family an empty space larger than I understand.
With no one to share these feelings with, they rattle around inside me for years, teaching me life is fragile and how surprisingly, out-of-the-blue, spaces crash into our lives, causing effects we didn’t see coming. For a long time, I couldn’t imagine living past the age of 24.
How do we manage when an unexpected space arrives, shifting our days? Do we seek blame, lash out, or curl within ourselves?
In moments following loss, I recommend spending time with our feelings, since burying feelings buries them alive.
Feel to heal. Begin or rededicate an intention to befriend ourselves, feeling what needs healing. What do we need?
Spaces also arrive when we choose to step away from: an addiction, a passion, readjust our lives in some fashion, travel in fresh ways…Soon after we move from Ohio to western North Carolina, I’m called to apply to a certification program in spiritual direction. When I embrace contemplative practices on the journey, space opens within my consciousness, enabling me to birth the inspired idea long knocking in my gut.
Riding waves of flow, I enjoy an experimental decade bringing into the world Joy on Your Shoulders (J.O.Y.S.) Batik cotton wares with positive messages, writing inspiring books, networking…
Additionally, our culture’s patterns to live into more grab my attention.
I’m caught up in society’s norms saying YES more than ever: I hire seamstresses, travel to conventions, write chapters in collaborative books, and hire a publicist. This wonderful man sends me jet setting to my first radio interview in New York City, connects me with podcasts and newscast interviews, and arranges an in-person appearance on KidLit TV.
In the midst of saying YES, Covid arrives, bringing changes in the ways we operate.
While packing to move last year, I realize it’s time to release storage containers of J.O.Y.S. words, bins of fabric, and boxes of the first book I wrote.
Once we’re living into a more spacious house where I breathe and move differently, I slow down, embracing moments beyond hurry and scurry. I intentionally release layers of connections: my publicist, writing for collaborative books, networking events, my longtime email address.
Apart from the needs of my ego to widely spread joy every which way, what if I’m simply bringing joy to each one I meet, each one I write a letter to, and each one I call?
Spaces enter for us in unexpected ways, or we intentionally create space, allowing life to flow with increasing ease.
I can only imagine your recent years with all you’ve come through.
Our uniqueness leads us to navigate big and little changes in the best ways we can, doesn’t it?
Might now be the time for you to create space in your life?
Joy Resor is an author of inspiring books, a spiritual mentor, and an Alliance of Divine Love Minister who leads local classes supporting personal growth.