Shooting stars, space and the noise of silence.

Some important concepts, much like a favourite view, or a favourite person, are worth revisiting. There’s always a different context, always something new to learn, always a fresh coat of paint on the canvas, always a different and more interesting path to journey down. So, coming back to something I’ve written about before ….

“Life is ultimately just moments stacked up, and once one moment has been experienced another immediately takes its place. Like an infinite deck of cards, being infinitely shuffled.” 

The past long gone, the future a hazy mirage. This current, fleeting second is all we ever have. 

This is, actually, it.

These moments can be mundane, they can be exciting, they can hopefully be funny and they can, occasionally, be painful. Sometimes, however, they can be precious and profound.

I was fortunate enough to have one such moment last week. 

I run. 

Like so many runners I do it, not expressly for fitness but for the huge sense of wellbeing that it gives me. The experience of sensing my body working, the mindfulness that rhythm and breath give, the connection to nature, the intense mental clarity that it can provide. And most importantly of all, for the people. The shared experience, laughter and connection that comes from doing something hard, and sometimes a bit mad (!).

Together.

It’s dark early now in the North of England and the forest trail was illuminated with a moving daisy chain of head torches as we made our way steadily through the trees; the rhythmic crunch of trainers and animated conversation scything through the dense and weighty blackness. Apart from the muted sodium-glow of the town in the distance, there was next to no light to pollute the experience. It was one of those glorious winter nights when anti cyclonic pressure systems clear the skies of cloud and the normal wet and windy stream of guff from the south west is replaced by clarity, and cold, from the east.

After half an hour or so we were at the top; breathless but satisfied with our efforts. Cold but hot at the same time, in that oxymoronic running sort of way. We turned our gaze upwards and switched off our head torches. A wonderful velvet cloak instantly blanketed us, surmounted by a starlit panorama from horizon to horizon. Breathtaking. 

And then it happened. From nowhere, (somewhere actually …heaven knows where) a shooting star shot across the sky in front of us. It was as if it had been laid on just for us, just for this moment. Some glorious celestial showing off. Put on to make us think, and to appreciate our efforts.

I guess you are either truly affected by such things, letting your senses luxuriate in the feeling of awe and connection that being close to nature can gift you, or you’re not. But for me this was a moment to truly savour. So grateful to have others share it with me, each in their own way.

Turning head torches on for the run back felt incredibly jarring, but necessary. 

The experience got me thinking about space. Not, I hasten to add, in a NASA-space type of way but the concept that it’s in the space between things, in the perceived absence of things,  that presence, growth, connection and clarity happen.

It was the absence of daylight that allowed us to see the incredible celestial tapestry that, of course, was always there. It is the absence of colour in monochrome images that allows the structure, shape and symmetry of things to become evident without distraction. It is the space between stimulus and reaction that should allow us to reflect before responding (how difficult that is in practice!) It is the absence of mental clutter that allows us to distill what is truly important to us. It is allowing space in our own hearts for others’ feelings, hopes and difficulties that allows true human connection to flourish and grow.

In the West we are worryingly, alarmingly in my view, bombarded with the constant pressure to fill every available space. Every nook and cranny of our physical and mental environment. There is a crazy desire to be seen as being busy. All the time. Of wearing exhaustion like a warped, and psychologically inverted, badge of honour. An insidious pressure to fill our homes and lives with stuff, things, objects that need looking after and maintaining. We have become afraid of space, quiet; of just being. 

Language is an amazing thing. The nuances of its structure and vocabulary hint at what’s important in that particular culture. The Eskimos have 50 words for snow. The Japanese, however, have five different words for space…

In Japanese, space is about how it shapes relationships, not about an interaction between objects and walls. In this way, spaces have meaning prior to any activity that happens within them. That’s a fabulously juicy concept to chew on …

Let’s start with the word Ninga. Human being. This is composed of two parts. The Nin being the physical being and the ga being the space in between. I love that.

Moving down the synonymic hit parade; in at number two is:

Wa. This is space that is an awareness of interpersonal connection. Seeing couples and families out for a meal all staring at their mobiles is the utter and complete antithesis of wa. You get the picture.

Number three is:

Ba.  This is space arranged so that the elements create new knowledge or experience. In other words, the physical space that you aim to learn in has a direct effect on the quality of the outcome of that learning.

On to number 4 which is:

Tokora. The word used to describe a state of being and also the physical location of something. This concept of space is ambivalent about boundaries. It is where being part of a place means being in a dynamic relationship with it, not just being there like a physically inanimate, leaden, lump. The feeling that being in nature, for example, means nature being in you.

And finally on to number 5, which is:

Ma. This is space designed for creating moments of peace and reflection. The space that aims to be the antidote to living life in a reactive way.

I love seeing how seemingly random events can lead to new learning, insight, connections and fun.

A precious encounter with a magical cosmic paintbrush has opened up a window to thinking about space in new, refreshing and life enriching ways. 

It is not something awkward to fill. It is  something wonderful and precious that can be used to deepen relationships (wa), generate knowledge (ba), connect to the world around us (tokoro), and allow moments of quiet and integration (ma). 

Ultimately, it can enrich our experience of the world and that of those around us.

Hurrah for that!!

Till next time,

Hugs 

GØ