Why more space sometimes doesn’t feel more relaxing
Now that we’ve moved past Memorial Day and into the first unofficial weeks of summer, I’ve already noticed my schedule shifting.
This spring was blessedly full in so many ways. And as things have naturally started to lighten, like they do every year, part of me feels a sense of relief.
I genuinely love having more room in my days.
More opportunities to move at a slower pace.
More space to let myself be in flow.
In past summers, I’ve welcomed this spaciousness almost as a balm that I needed.
But this year feels a little different.
I'm feeling a bit of a push-pull between the part of me that wants the fluidity and freedom and the part of me that wants structure and stability.
While the tension between these two parts makes them seem contradictory,
I've realized they're actually complimentary.
The part of me that wants to create stability and safety is ultimately trying to give me the freedom to embrace a more spacious summer rhythm.
And the part of me that wants that spaciousness is trying to stay open enough to notice possibilities I might otherwise miss if I were gripping too tightly.
It reminds me of something I learned during COVID.
As so many of my familiar structures disappeared, I also saw an invitation to imagine new ways of living, working, and being.
I was surprised how fast my brain was able to create new routines, new structures, and a new sense of normal, but I never forgot that experience of realizing that in those moments of spaciousness and uncertainty, there were more possibilities available than I had ever previously imagined.
It's true that uncertainty and possibility often arrive together.
Spaciousness can sometimes feel uncomfortable precisely because we don’t yet know what will fill it.
And if we allow that fear of uncertainty that comes from out survival brain to try to fill the space too quickly or take actions just for the sake of doing something, we miss the opportunity.
There’s a difference between taking actions to be proactive and taking actions to try to outrun uncertainty.
One comes from self-care.
The other comes from fear.
The more I’ve paid attention this last week, the more I’ve realized that what I’m actually looking for isn’t so much structure or certainty.
It’s safety.
And sometimes the most supportive thing I can do is take the practical steps that help create that sense of safety.
To make a plan.
To have a conversation.
To take the next right action.
Not because I can control the future, but because I’m taking care of myself in the present.
And when I do that, something interesting happens.
The spaciousness feels different.
The openness feels different.
What once felt like uncertainty starts to feel a little more like possibility.
Perhaps that’s the balance I’m experimenting with to start this summer.
Creating enough safety that I don’t feel abandoned by myself.
And enough spaciousness that possibility still has room to find me.
Because sometimes safety creates freedom.
And sometimes freedom creates safety.
And sometimes the very thing we can’t yet predict ends up bringing something greater than we ever could have planned for ourselves.
