Is Creating an Empty Space on Your Holiday List?

         A colleague once told of visiting an older writer in Paris whom she’d always admired.  The woman welcomed her at the door and invited her in.  The apartment was full of books, papers, and artwork and it was not clear where to sit.  The woman gestured toward a chair that had some books and papers on it.  “Oh, just put those anywhere.”  My friend picked the items up and was about to place them on a small empty table nearby, but the woman said, “Oh, not there. I try to keep one space empty and open wherever I live.” And she indicated a different spot to lay the items.

         My friend said she never forgot this idea: that even in the smallest of residences, it may be a worthwhile practice to have one place that is not covered with things, but always “empty and open.” 

         This time of year, it’s common to bring out all kinds of things that speak to us of the meaning and memories of the season – figurines, candles, ornaments, greens, lights, seasonal books, etc. I have several playlists of music I return to every year, which fills the air with music.  It can be a busy and joyful time.

         I’ve been thinking — What would it be like this year to create an “empty and open space’ in our living space? What if we choose a spot that we see throughout the day that will remind us to be inwardly open to silent truths, fresh inspirations, and the savoring of mystery?

         In the Biblical story of the angel coming to Mary, she is essentially asked if she will be open to a new life coming into this world through her.  She says yes, and the life arrives from a realm beyond her knowing.

         Isn’t it the same with all children?  We understand how the biology works, but the way children seem to each arrive with a unique soul and presence is surely a wonder.  David Brooks tells of a friend whose spiritual journey began as she held her first child in her arms and thought, “I love this child more than evolution can explain.”

         In the Mexican tradition of La Posada, Joseph and Mary travel from house to house, asking if they might stay for the night. Time after time they are told there is no room for them.  In the end, the only ‘open space” they are offered is a manger. But it is enough.

         I’m going to try this out.  My desk sits next to a bookcase where every shelf is often full of books and CDs.  But I decided to clear off one eye-level shelf and leave it bare for the month.  When I’m tempted to place something there, I’m going to tell myself, “Oh, not there. I try to keep one empty and open space wherever I live.”

         “How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given…” In silence and emptiness and openness gifts can appear that may surprise us.

.