I had in my queue this topic of negative space. I planned to write about it last week, but some personal matters came up that took all my energy and creativity away from writing and into problem-solving. And then, of course, a few days of recovery. Now, I can feel my brain starting to re-boot itself and come back to the things I enjoy.

And that is the importance of negative space.

The negative space in our lives is the in-between, the things that don’t exist, the empty spaces between all the things we do. It is the blank space on our walls, what’s left when we clear off a table, the sky between all the stars. Negative space serves such an important place in our lives.

We talk so much about how our culture is so fast paced, how we need to slow down, how we need to practice self-care and do things we enjoy. But what if the thing we would enjoy most is… nothing?

Nothingness can feel scary at first. Nothing exists in negative space except us and our thoughts. It is where our inner lives are the loudest, and we hear everything going on inside us. If we haven’t come to terms with our inner worlds, negative space is where we will be able to tell.

And yet, if we have…

Negative space can be the most beautiful parts of our lives – a space void of responsibility. No responsibility to engage, think, find humor, plan, or complete tasks. Negative space gives us the option to just be ourselves, show up how we are. We have no need to perform in this space, who would it be for? Nothing and everything exists in those spaces, for our imaginations are free to roam and create.

Creativity lives in the negative space, or perhaps just on the other side. We cannot create when we are stressed, rushed, or pressured. Or, I should say, we can’t create well. My kids often complain about boredom. They hate being bored more than almost anything… except me when I remind them that boredom is good for them. Creativity springs from boredom, boredom from negative spaces. Like a blank canvas begging to be painted on, these spaces hold value beyond compare.

I’m not sorry when I pull away. I’m not apologetic. I need it.

Ride in the car without music or a podcast. Listen to the wind and the raindrops on your roof. Hear your own heartbeat and what your thoughts are trying to tell you. What boils up the most when everything goes quiet? Likely the thing that is asking for space the most in our lives – the thing we are afraid to give a nod to, the thing that just won’t go away.

Whenever I move into a new house, I leave the walls blank for a few days. I imagine what would go on them, and I come to terms with their emptiness. And then I ask myself one question: what do I like enough to put here to trade for the emptiness? Sometimes it is a photo or art piece or wreath, but more times than not, the answer is simply: nothing.

What are we constantly trading our negative spaces for? What are we valuing above the quiet and roar of our own thoughts? Is it worth it to us or could we use a little bit of stillness to listen and recalibrate? Make friends with the silence, be at peace with the empty spaces. They might hold more than you know.