#54. Negative Space, Necessary Grace

A work in progress!

At almost any point on a sweltering summer day, a fly hovers at the front door, the only door, waiting for its chance to enter. I wouldn’t say they’re welcome, but they always find a way in.

Naturally, I turn to The Shaman’s Guide to Power Animals to see what a fly might have to say.

The gist: nothing is wasted.

The fly doesn’t recognize anything as garbage—even garbage. To the fly, trash is sustenance, it's mercy. Which makes me think of how there’s learning in everything. It's something I tell my clients, and remind myself, often, at the risk of sounding toxically positive. Although for the fly, apparently, even toxicity is positive.

I think, too, about the Temperance card, one of my favorites of the Tarot. The other week, I ended a late-ish happy hour(s) to find that my car had been towed from Malibu all the way to Gardena, and I wasn’t bothered at all. I just had this soft, blanket-like knowing that it was happening in my favor, for reasons I’d never know and didn't need to. That maybe the 45-minute trip (thanks, Anita!) was saving me from some greater misfortune. Unprompted, the tow truck dude said as much, and I was struck at the serendipity of our shared sentiment. We ended up swapping book suggestions: I offered The Untethered Soul, he gave me Who Ordered This Truckload of Dung? A cosmic little trade.

And this is what’s been sticking with me lately—this millisecond of temperance that shows up in the instant before irritation takes over. The whisper that it’s all — ALL of it! — working in my favor.

Negative space in art is the empty area around the subject. I struggle with that, being prone to stuffing ten pounds of shit into a five pound bag. But the point of negative space is to let the main subject breathe, to highlight what’s meant to be seen, to bring balance, the way uncluttered rooms and hearts help us breathe more easily.

But in life, to be in a negative space has the opposite connotation. And I should know—I find myself in them often, before finding my way out again. Still, if a fly is a favor, and a towed car is a closeted convenience, then whatever negative spaces I stumble into must be blessings, too. Sometimes, I'm able to see it right away; you know, the sweet isn't as sweet without the sour, and all that. Other times, I know that I'll never know why. I'm just called to trust that what feels like an inconvenience or a loss was saving me from some darker despair.

Anyway, I’d like to be back to writing more often now that summer is supposedly over, though someone should really let the gods of temperature know. What we call negative space might just be necessary grace, even when it shows up as a season that refuses to quit.

As always, with love and thanks,

BROOKIE

P.S. The oracle cards are have been here.

And the card I pulled for us today is

W.A.I.T.

I had written a whole letter about this sentiment when I was making my way down the alphabet, but the heart of it is simple: Why Am I Talking? Are my words: true, kind, necessary? It's always worth assessing whether our words pass through these three gates, not just for others, but for the words we whisper to ourselves, too.