Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

Oscillations and orchestras.

October 26, 2016

 

I'm a big believer in space, personal space, and lots of it. 

 

But then, I'm an Aquarius, and that's like our creed.

 

Nonetheless, across the astrological spectrum (If you vibe that way, that is; if not, no worries. Same-same, only different), space is important. Give space, take space. Claim space. Space = sanity. Every time. 

 

But more important than finding pockets of space throughout the day (bathrooms and I are well acquainted; closets, too), is having a space of your own. One you can spill anything in and it doesn't matter (material, cosmic, or emotional spills--all are welcome; none are cried over in the spilling). One where you can shut the door--where others have to knock for entry. This is physical space, literal space, not metaphysical, meditative space.

 

I've not mastered that skill yet. Maybe when I do, doors won't matter so much.

 

But for now, I'm talking about space for letting down defenses, whispering much longed-for wishes, dumping regrets and lamentations, watching them seep into the carpet.

 

That is your space, and that is your remedy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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