Thoughts into Form into Space: PRACTISING SPACIOUSNESS THROUGH WRITING

This year, I’ve decided to learn how to write. To find a way to translate the whirl of images, feelings and sensed knowing into words that might actually make sense to someone else. I feel pulled, as though by a small thread. Tugging me earnestly towards the full body of its tangled yarn. Asking, tentatively, to be sorted and woven into form, a tapestry that can be seen and experienced by others.

Words are both a meeting place and a space-creator. Stories articulated thoughtfully can connect us and shape us. In giving form to what we feel, we release its weight and make space for something new. Once space is created, new ideas can come to life without force.

THE SECRET LIFE OF IDEAS

Our ideas long to come alive just as we do. In The Creative Act, Rick Rubin suggests that ideas arrive when there is space for them, when the conditions are right, when the mind is quiet and open enough to listen. Sometimes, that means putting the pen down and stepping away.

As an illustrator, writing feels distinct enough from my other creative work that it becomes a space-creating act in itself. It’s uncomfortable at times, especially when the words feel all wrong, when I hit my limits and wonder how others do it so easily. But when I let the outcome fade into the background and apply myself to the simple act of putting one word after another, I begin to sense an opening, leading to a vast and fluid expanse of possibility.

Sometimes it feels as though the words have been piled up like a barricade, but as they are being released, piece by piece, though slowly at first, they stir movement. Momentum builds into a steady stream, clearing the cluttered mental space and leaving behind fertile soil to be tended with a gardener’s patience.

CONSTANT COLLABORATION

For many of us, trust and patience can be the hardest part. It pushes against the caution many of us were raised with. Every doubt we’ve ever heard echoes through us, becoming more solid each time it’s repeated. We’re taught to believe that control equals success, that what we create or don’t create is entirely up to us.

The trouble with this line of thought is how it can render us utterly incapable of creating anything. Something shifts when we open up to the possibility that we are in constant collaboration with the world outside of us. That ideas are alive, buzzing all around us, just waiting for our minds to quiet down enough to let them in. Once welcomed, our role is to work with them. We give them form without force. It’s a process of letting go and allowing things to unfold in their own time.

SPACE-CREATORS

Discipline, belief and solitude are just a few of many ways we create space. By disciplining our thoughts, we clear away the clutter, the doubts, the fears, the shame, the desperate need for validation. These heavy blocks pollute our inner world. Any small act of discipline helps, especially when guided by what’s actually important to us.

When we act in alignment, we build trust in ourselves. Bit by bit, belief replaces fear. We expand to create more room for beauty, truth and synchronicity to exist in each moment - we just need to slow down to notice.

Time in solitude helps. As anyone who has tried to meditate knows, it’s rarely instant. Often the mind roars before it settles. But even one minute of stillness makes a difference. It takes both discipline and belief to choose undistracted solitude over the deadlines and noise.

A SAFE HOUSE IN SPACE

There's always a sweet spot. That delicate dance between discipline and flow. Inviting structure without rigidity, openness while staying grounded, believing genuinely, not forcefully. Making time for solitude while still delighting in connection.

A sweet spot I have in mind today is where thoughtful reflection and intentional action meet. Where we create a sense of safety that allows for spaciousness of mind. That safety becomes a home, an anchor back to ourselves. A safe house in space where new ideas can enter as guests. As we settle into that space and tend to its surroundings, clearing out the debris of doubt and expectation, we make room not only for new creations but for a deeper relationship with ourselves and with the mysteries that move through us.

INVITATION

If you’d like, take a few moments to sit in your space. Feel the point of contact between you and whatever is supporting you. Maybe the ground under your feet, your chair beneath you, or the weight of your hands on your lap.

What’s front and centre for you right now? What is taking up space? Does it have a name, a colour, a sound or a shape?

You might try expressing this “space-taker” in some way. A sketch, some words, a movement or a sound. Then gently imagine what it might feel like if it were no longer there. What would the space feel like then?

You could even create a second response, from that quieter place. There’s no right or wrong. Just noticing the shift can be enough.

THANKS FOR READING 🧚
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