Mind the Gap!
"The gap between the life you could live and the life you are living is called focus."
~ Laura Clegg
Yesterday during our evening walk, my husband Bill and I crossed paths with our neighbor Bob. Bill had just finished sharing how they bumped into each other on their morning commute, as I giggled at the impossible task of having a soft conversation with each other in the "quiet compartment".
… nothing quiet about a Taurus man!
Bob had taken the wrong train from Secaucus – in his haste to get home, he jumped into what he assumed was westbound into Newark station and wound up, instead, on Broad Street – way off-course. Well, he had to take three trains back to get on the "right" track and that cost him time and frustration as the desire to sit on the porch with his wife and sip a Negroni mounted.
We've all been here - when we're too struck on what we want ahead or too stuck on something we left behind we find ourselves way off course; and when we're lost, it's hard to bring attention to the gap between"where we are relative to where we want to be".
That's because we can only pay attention to one object at a time. The mind can't multitask on its own, it needs the wisdom of the body and the intention of the heart to navigate the world --the space betweenis what makes them holy ... transports desire, and brings us home.
And, that gap doesn't stop at the yellow line on a platform: there's also a gap between stations and between the moving object seeking to fulfill desire and the action that will bring you to the next destination. There's so much out of our control - just getting to the station can be a mess and, once on your train, other objects that support the system may break down - schedules are easily derailed.
Being mindful of the gap between the limitations of the moving parts of the system and the goal of attention (in relation to our own awareness, skill, and understanding) allows us to check in and ask,“Have I arrived at my chosen destination, and, is this where I belong?”
Belong.
That's a loaded word - conjuring all sorts of feelings about the gap and all that stands in the way of where we long to be, what will be waiting for us, and what we'll do once we get there.
Some gaps may appear as "good".
I love the gap between when I see my husband or sons, it allows me the time to discover on my own - to use the gap creatively and with mindful attention for the purpose of gathering new experiences, even if that’s in the form of nurturing myself with a nap, or writing or cleaning out an old drawer or dancing through the house or even walking Henry - this is Good!
In this way, the gap offers an interval between being in relationship with others and being in relationship with my Self, with a capital "S".
However, when I start to prefer being alone – to believe that “I need to be alone in order to create, rest, dance, write,” then, not so good because I've now put identity and desire as the axis of action and righteousness and will strong-arm the world to uphold these beliefs.
This relationship indicates that belief and belonging are integral to our sense of "universal morality" and that two objects must exist for there to be a gap; the gap is inherent in our individual and co-creative experience - it offers us agency and choice.
Some gaps may appear as 'bad'.
As the gap between my workouts or meditations increased, so did the inability to jump into action or respond with awareness - this is Bad.
Like right now, my body and mind are sluggish and dispassionate - I can't fit into the clothes that once inspired me and that really weighs me down. And, though it took 7 years of great attention and action to sculpt a strong body and 15 years to cultivate this practice, it took far less for that peak conditioning to fall away.
Gravity has a way of doing that to objects - when we stay stuck for too long or when we have become complacent in the "telling" of this story or when we become lost in the object of this idea or when we are not paying attention to the message this tight-around-my-waist and bloating mind are prophesying - we loose touch with desire.
However, when we use this discomfort as a signal that asks, “Does this behavior support how I want to feel?”, then we can surrender the idea of discomfort and allow the conditions and reality of time and space to hold us with detachment and compassion - to allow the instrument of attention to recenter with these new coordinates: "Wow! It's been 3 years since I've paid attention and honored my body and soul." This shift inspires the gratitude that asks, "What do I know? How do I proceed and how can I prepare?"
When we use this information to strengthen our resilience and invoke wisdom, then not so bad.
What’s important is the moment you notice.
Before you notice, nothing new can happen, though there may be some juicy story or conversation or thought grabbing your attention that may feel as if there is something happening, most of the details and routes are recycled or re-inspired from the past, like dreams -- the way auto-drive brings you home after tension at work, and how awareness kicks in to notice you've arrived home safely.
That's the sweet spot, the gap between inhalation and exhalation ... the opportunity to recognize without judgment, "Ah! I was lost (in thought, in a feeling, in emotion, in a story, in what I wanted ahead) and, "Ah! Now I am home, safe!" This re-centering (like google maps) asks us to surrender where we wanted to go in order to ask, “How did I get here – and where would You have me be?"
And this happens all the time!
I've been struggling as I come into a new relationship with my dad as a widower – weary of getting trapped in my role as his child and not wanting to fall into the abyss of complacency that settled between us in caring for my mom. Time has offered a gap of perspective that serves our mutual souls. And when things come up that feel familiar - when I notice the feeling of stress rise in my body and the ways stress kept us separate - tight and constricted - I am able to shift and respond with the patience and action that supports my love for him - this is Good.
But, during the months following my mom's death, I was abducted by unexpected jealousy and despair when Bill ‘got’ to teach that Spring (as if I had no choice) and that kept me from feeling joy for him - this is Bad.
It was painful to see the error of my perception and there was much discomfort in the identity of "teacher" or "poor me" - I was trapped in the gap between "good and bad". Still, it was a perfect process: I had to notice that I was jealous first and then not chastise myself for this feeling; I had to call upon Self Compassion and understanding, and I had to recognize what I wanted in my heart and what felt "less than" in my thoughts, and how there was some story of "this happened to me" that overshadowed the devotion that wanted to nourish my body and soul.
This labeling really messed me up - conflated my path. But when I began to notice the gap (even though it revealed something that I was not proud of), it became a signal to re-aligned attention - to Be True and be mindful of an ego too vested in identity.
It’s humbling!
Every time we give our power of attention over to the idea of what life should be like - every time we want to have what others have because without it we feel denied, or we feel unworthy of expanding or taking up space as we are – we deny the value of our own desires, needs and contributions - are disempowered from the actions that will serve us and from the remembrance that destiny is empowered through the totality of this very experience.
And, when we straighten up and look around – when I feel my feet on the floor, body moving through space, witnessing widely - we are presented with powerful opportunities: to realign in ways that make perception capable of building a web of stations and relationships which connect our inner and outer world; to wake up when we start believing that the platform or the train or the destination is more real or better or worse than what is happening right now, and to recognize that the Way we conduct ourselves at this moment will determine the destination that awaits us.