Word of The Year: Space
In 2020, my word of the year was Connect. This coming year, it is Space. Not the starry space. And not as Flannery laughed, “give me space.”
But Space as in — Create Space for More.
I love projects, and in 2020, I took on many: a streaming service, the release of Phoenix, Oregon, a new house, fire relief, gardening, agency work, etc.
With each new project, my habit is to leave debris — a trail of tasks behind me. They are tasks I don’t want to do, “wastes of time” left incomplete.
These tasks haunt me, bury me. I’m great at ignoring them, and indeed that makes some of them go away. But not all. Eventually someone will have to clean up. Either me or someone I hire.
So, this is the year for addressing and throwing off the blanket of left-over tasks.
And creating… Space.
I can barely see the “more” yet, there is so much brain clutter. But the more includes…
More love, fun, work. More family, friends, walks, hikes. More peace and energy.
I’ve always thought that boring tasks are time wasters, but I’m beginning to see that a little daily monotony may save time.
Ultimately, I want time for more new projects. My strength, my life force, is in projects. That’s where I contribute, help people, reach out, make a difference, use my unique gifts. But I’ve buried myself.
The day after the fires, when I saw the need, one of my first thoughts was, I wish I had taken care of all this stuff (tasks, paperwork, wrap up, clean up, etc) so that I could fully commit to helping with the relief efforts. I had a huge sinking feeling that I couldn’t. I did anyway. And things fell apart for awhile. I was rewarded in helping, but eventually I had to give it up to pick up the other pieces of my life.
So this year, I choose to give myself the gift of space. It will be a monumental challenge for me, one I’ve been putting off for years. One I hate to face in any given day or week. But the debris trails are so large now that I can no longer put it off. They have moved in to strangle me and show their demanding teeth.
My resentment and stubbornness is falling away. I’ve turned a baby step to face them. I believe they have something to teach me.
Something about being grounded and appreciative.
And choosing to live here, to be here. On this earth. Instead of escaping in every moment.
To slow down. To see and be.