Fear of Space

I’m afraid of space.

The space I am creating by closing down Little Red Tarot.

The space I am creating by simplifying my shop.

Any kind of space that sound decisions may create.

The decisions feel right…

…the space feels scary.

I see space coming up on the horizon and I feel two things:

One is relief. The way one looks forward to a holiday after a stressful period, I am excited to welcome quietness to my life later this year, excited to be retiring systems and lists and whole entire journals and having access to that most coveted of things: time.

The other is fear. I notice myself rushing to fill the space before it even comes. I notice myself claiming that space, that time, that is coming up on the horizon, reserving it already for this project and that – more than I had on my plate before, even.

What am I afraid of?

I think….confronting myself as my own, simple self – not defined by my work, not validated by readers/customers/recipients/colleagues bouncing back gratitude and messages of ‘you’re great!’ In the simplicity of spaciousness, where I am not creating output, my identity, my sense of self, must come from myself.

Must come from an embodied sense of enoughness.

I watch myself and friends do this with new year. How many times have I said, in a hectic November, with a more hectic December coming up, “let’s begin/come back to this in January, when things quiet down!” Trouble is, by the time January comes, it’s so full of such projects that it’s often busier or more stressful than the months before. We look forward to January’s spaciousness as the year draws to a close, only to sabotage our desire, and find ourselves launching into a new year that’s as full as before.

This time, I am trying to catch myself before I fill that space. It’s so strange to say ‘no’ to things I actually feel it physically, a strange wrench in my torso. After that, though, I feel something else, something pleasant. A tiny inner high-five, a ‘yay’, a flutter of excitement.

And after that, ease.

I am so deeply identified with ‘busy work’ and doing tons and always being a bit unavailable. I am so used to that constant slightly-sick feeling of having a lot to do, of having people waiting for things from me.

I am so used to resting my identity on my output.

If I create this space by letting go of this role… what will become of me? How will I know I exist, that I’m okay, that I’m doing a good job, that my work is of value?

What would it be like to simply let there be space?

Perhaps I would find my answers there.