Our full moon will display its complete splendor on Saturday (3:19am Ottawa) and emotions may explode. Dave hesitates to leave the house on the full moon. He says he is a magnet for “full moon people.” I say bring on the full moon people (as I lounge safely on the couch). As long as they are howling at the moon and not at me, it’s all good.

I learned that this particular full moon is about finding balance between our dreamer (Pisces) and our planner (Virgo); the dynamic duo of reverie and reality working hand in hand to make it happen. What “it” means only your heart knows or is longing to tell.

In order to listen to the longings of the heart, space is required. We need space to be alone with our cacophony of thoughts until finally, one or two essential little gems weave their way up, crane their tiny necks to be seen above the crowd, and squeal breathlessly, “Listen up! This may be critical to your survival!”

Space is essential for thinking, dreaming, and planning. Those heart whispers hold untapped wisdom and direction.

As I was musing aloud about space the other day, Dave commented that he feels drivers are giving each other more space on the roads.

“It’s social distancing,” he extrapolated.

Since his comment, I’ve seen the same thing. Maybe it’s like VW Bugs: once you think about them, they magically start to appear.

This may not be the same type of space I was referring to, but it shows an increased respect for the space others need. Now that’s groovy.

Breathing Room

I’m re-reading Sarah Susanka’s The Not So Big Life. This is a darn fine read by a brilliant, philosophical architect. Each chapter opens with an architectural principal which in itself is illuminating. For Composition she states:

“A satisfying composition takes time, care and introspection, whether you are designing a house, writing a short story, or living a life…(it) needs a blueprint, along with instructions for putting the plan into action.”

Time for introspection and a blueprint for plans/action sound like the perfect combo for this full moon. A dream will remain a dream until we devise and implement a plan. And which dreams do we pursue? Well, that circles back to our need for space to listen to what our heart is desperate to reveal.

Another architectural principal is Openability. I know that Dave wishes my principal of openability was a bit less open. This includes bathroom doors. And philosophical musings. And expounding philosophical musings whilst perched atop my throne.

On the concept of Openability, Susanka offers:

“We don’t realize that by widening the openings between rooms, or aspects of our lives, we can change our experience considerably…with an unobstructed view between rooms, we get an increased sense of space and we begin to understand what has made us feel cramped and limited in the past… (we) add wider openings and doorways to our lives so that we don’t feel so limited or trapped. It’s time to create some breathing room.”

When my health took another glorious nose-dive in 2018, I needed space and time to heal. This not only entailed rebuilding physical strength and stamina. I had to examine what in my life was making me feel cramped and limited and devote time to the deconstruction process: what did I need to remove and change? Only then, could reconstruction commence by widening openings and adding doorways to give myself new, authentically-purposed rooms.

I am still reconstructing.

Repurposing space can be challenging. The reconstruction process, depending on how much work is required, can be labor intensive. There are no guarantees of what will emerge. We have to get comfortable with the tricky concepts of trust and faith.

Mercifully, creating new space in our lives does not always require major life changes. Sometimes it simply means repurposing how we spend our time. What can we do to give ourselves a little extra breathing room? What do we need more of in order to listen to that which lies buried deep inside?

We have to say no, in order to say yes.

In order to liberate some precious time and energy, perhaps choose to release an outdated commitment by asking, “Do I really need to keep doing…?”

In our practice of creating breathing room it is useful to start small. A lot of change can occur with small things. The effects will gently flow into other areas of our lives.

A friend recently shared a daily discipline: she answers text messages only twice a day. In doing so, she is released from the Pavlovian conditioning of reacting to the constant dings and has increased her ability to respond instead of react when communicating. What a useful life skill. As an added bonus, she receives fewer text messages and thus has added a little extra breathing room to her day.

Can you imagine applying this discipline to work email? Sure, some heads might initially explode but I bet you would eventually receive less meaningless, “reactive” communications. Try it and let me know what happens. My inbox used to be filled with “emergency/top priority” gobbledygook. Each immediate response I made reinforced the sender’s belief the issue was critical. It often was not.

As I also suffer from of a case of the jibber-jabbers, I apologize to all former colleagues for depleting their space and energy reserves. I have learned a bit since then.

Whether you need to howl, cry or laugh within the glow of the full moon, do whatever feels right to create a sense of space and peace.

Sit back and listen to the messages you receive.

Maybe those full moon people are onto something: emotional explosions (directed at full moons, not other people) really can release that which is no longer needed, making room for that which is essential.