How to Fill the Space

It’s been hot over here in Iowa—really hot.

Believe it or not, I love this type of weather. The heat is my favorite. It feels good on my skin and in my bones. Working in the direct sunlight makes me feel alive; sweat is proof that I am.

One of the reasons I started The White-Space Project was to gift myself more of these feel-alive moments. So for a few weeks now, I’ve pared back on commissioned work and have carefully chosen what to turn down in all areas of my life. This part has actually been easier than I thought it would be. Saying “no, thank you” isn’t scary any longer because I have this project as my excuse.

But as I reflect upon these few weeks of the project in its baby phase, I see I’ve learned my first valuable lesson.

Creating space is only part of the journey. Filling that space with dreams and joy is the other part.

You see, I had falsely assumed that if I had a few extra hours in my day, I would automatically begin doing all the things I’ve wanted to do.

I was wrong.

Old habits die hard, and with my extra couple of hours in the day, I didn’t know what to do. I was so used to running on a schedule full of deadlines, shoulds, and have-tos, I didn’t know how to exist without it. I spent a few days (or longer) just sitting around feeling directionless and, to be honest, a little worthless. If I’m not doing something for someone, then what was I to do?

That’s when it hit me that I had to be proactive and make myself do something that I truly wanted to do.

So I went into the barn and shoveled shit on a very, very hot day.

It was glorious!

Thirteen wheelbarrow loads later, I felt more alive than I’ve felt in ages. I’ve missed that part of me. Getting dirty and feeling one with the universe was a much-needed break for me, and that’s when it locked into my head that I have to actually make joy happen.

Joy doesn’t always show up on its own, although it’s nice when it does. Sometimes I need to make joy happen. It’s part of caring for myself and being an advocate for my own needs.

I’ll be heading out to the barn later this week to clean out the remaining two horse stalls, but I’m waiting for a hot, sunny day so I can sweat and feel alive.

I want to spend time watering the landscaping and picking a few tomatoes from my sorry little garden.

I want to saddle up my horse and feel the connection between human and animal.

I want to finish a sewing project that serves as a legacy piece.

I want to bake more cookies.

I want to visit more friends.

I want to write more.

I want to sing more.

I want to move more.

This is how I choose to proactively use my newly-created white space.

Watch out, joy, I’m coming for ya.