Spaciousness

We have been given such a precious gift in this life — in each moment, we have the freedom to choose who we are. We take this simple fact for granted, so often we feel trapped by the expectations of others, identities we absorbed when we were young, or the pressures of a society which places value on material success and the trappings of the ego. But within the present moment exists an endless stream of possibility — each moment is completely new. Who do you want to be in this moment?

Often we imagine time as a linear movement, almost as if it were a line that stretches out before us and behind us. In this metaphor, our life unfolds on this line, as we walk ever-forward through time toward the moment when we pass from this life to whatever is next. But this isn’t really how it is — time passes through us, we don’t pass through time. We can imagine ourselves standing still in the middle of a stream. The water flows around us, but we stay still. This present moment is where we exist — we will never exist in the waters to come nor the waters that have passed through us already. In this truth lies the greatest freedom — that we have the power to completely shift our reality at any moment, whenever we wake up and realize that this moment is all that exists.

When we allow time to pass through us in this way, life takes on a quality of spaciousness. It’s a gentle allowing, a knowing that we are not in control of the flow of time or the way that the waters want to flow. Spaciousness is the opposite of busy-ness — even though we may still be occupied with many tasks, we are present to each moment and allow the time to flow naturally between tasks.

I strive to find this sense of spaciousness in my life, but often it feels just out of reach, hidden behind a cloud of worries or a list of things I “have” to get done. But every time I step outside and walk amongst the trees and beings of the forest, I breathe in the feeling of spaciousness. The trees remind me that growth happens slowly, the ants tell me about the importance of the jobs that seem the smallest. The moss reminds me that it’s ok to soak up the sun and rain, and do nothing else. The mycelium underfoot revels in the joy of connectedness, and the experience of supporting the whole.

May your days be spacious, my friends. Let this moment be the most important moment of your life - again, and again.