Negative Space
What you gain, what you miss (and some recent delights to share)
An inveterate multi-tasker, I’m a woman with a shoot-it-dead approach to many things. Agonizing over a decision is not my norm; I have an immediate opinion on and reaction to most things. I know what I think and feel. That has been my habit lo these 65 2/3 years.
As I age, however, I notice how much I love pausing before I act, looking before I leap, deliberately seeking an antidote to my usual multi-tasking.
An empty surface is newly pleasing to me, the woman who once Googled “maximalist, bright-colored, eclectic interior design” (and found someone epic whom I hired to help me create that chock-a-block effect).
Everyone’s dream is an empty seat on an airplane or train (next to oneself). Besides breathing room and the avoidance of sharing thigh space with a stranger, it’s also just aesthetically comforting to see some margin.
Call me crazy (or unpatriotic or heretical) but I don’t much like holidays. Give me a good “morning after,” and I am in ecstasy. December 26, New Year’s Day, the Tuesday after Labor Day, August 29 (the day after my birthday)… they all come with relief that the rush-up-to-the-big-day-and-all-the-expectations are over.
These “mornings after” come with the satisfaction that something lovely was planned, and then it happened; I enjoyed the feast; I loved seeing the people. But now, now, now… it’s all blessedly over, leaving in its wake satisfaction and calm and low expectations and openness and negative space.
Easter night has long been one of my favorite church services. It’s typically about the “Road to Emmaus” story in Luke 24 — where some guys are walking on the road on the day of Jesus’ resurrection. They are briefly joined by a stranger who — imagine! — seems to have no idea about all the crazy shit that has happened around town (a crucifixion, the loss of the prospect of an actual messiah, resurrection), but then their eyes are opened when the guy — Jesus, it turns out — feeds them, and they realize that he’s miraculously alive. And have to go tell everyone. And then Jesus disappears.
And discussing this crazy walk with a stranger, they say “Weren’t our hearts burning within us?” I love that. And I love the emphasis on this “aftermath” story, far less dramatic than an empty tomb. Some guys talking, walking, eating and sitting with a major head-scratch of “What was that?”
I’m drawn to the quiet story after the Easter morning of brass instruments, a fashion parade of pastels, pathos and joy. I like the idea of the after-party, the after-story, the B-side, the understudy… whatever it is that doesn’t have all the expectations of the main event but does have the potential for joy or surprise.
Random Tuesdays are some of God’s greatest gifts. Unexpected treasures surface even when one doesn’t dig deep. The quotidian pathways have flowers popping up through the sidewalk cracks. The ratio of expectation and demand to likelihood of delight is just right.
We feel like the world can’t go on without us, but we are really made to rest first, and then to work out of the energy that results. We all know murder is wrong; we mostly ignore Sabbath as a commandment. I believe it’s a gift we ought to receive gratefully.
Margin.
Exhaling.
Who has noticed, in these dizzy days where we go to bed contemplating the end of a civilization and wake up to yogurt and fruit as usual, that you need to stare into space, that you must ground yourself in simple pleasures, in deliberate slowness, intention and wonder instead of, always, business as usual?
Where have you found something surprising or beautiful in the absence, the negative space, the pause before or the morning after? I’m curious.
Man I loved this post!
When we were redesigning our kitchen, there was a space that I felt like was perfectly suited forsomething useful. Our architect friend who designed the space convinced me that negative space is not negative. I still didn’t understand, but now I do. It brings me so much joy to watch them dance, run in circles, listening to their favorite music, dressed in costumes and singing to their hearts content. I recognize that my architect friend was right and negative space creates opportunities for surprises,people and endless joys.