I’ve recently been wrestling with this idea of “the space between.” Often times, the space between is a sign that change is on the horizon. It’s a transition stage, if you will. It can be good; it can be bad. Much like life.
For me, though, I seem to be in web of “spaces between.” And that’s not to say this is a bad web. It is merely neither good, nor bad. It simply is.
Most of you know I am a runner. I’ve been running since the sixth grade when I randomly asked my Dad if I could join him on his daily track run. He, of course, said yes and so I went. From that point forward, I was hooked. Over the years I have transitioned from a casual runner to a more, serious long-distance runner (although, I’m still snails-pace slow). I have run a total of five full marathons and dozens of half-marathons. It has become tradition for me to run the St. Jude full marathon each year in December. I’ve done so the past five years in a row. It was only natural for me to sign up again this year. However, the running gods had a different plan for me. I was diagnosed with a stress fracture in my left hip last month and was told to lay off running for at least a few months (and obviously forgo the marathon). So, here I am, muddling through the space between—the space between now and when I can finally start seriously running again.
Relationships. They are hard. I’ve yet to master them. The emotions, the feelings, the time together, the time apart—it can all be overwhelming and difficult to digest. Loving people at their best is easy, but learning to love them at their worst takes far more strength and dedication. Not to mention patience…lots and lots of patience.
So, here I am, navigating the space between—the space between loving myself and loving my partner.
Yoga. I’ve been a dedicated yogi since I was 15 years old (that’s eleven years!). I’ve seen my practice evolve from basic, I-can-touch-the-ground ability to advanced, I-can-twist-into-a-pretzel ability. Yet, lately, due to the hip injury, my practice has suffered. It’s frustrating—looking at myself in the mirror for 90 minutes, a constant reminder of what I can’t do; what I once was.
So, here I am, balancing the tight rope of the space between—the space between each posture.
Finding a sense of contentment and peace amidst the chaos of the space between is the challenge. Yet, what if solace is found in just riding it out; relinquishing control; letting go; trusting that the answers will come, but only without force. Because maybe we will always be in the space between; maybe the space between is synonymous with what we call the present, the here and now.
“I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”