Creating Space

I recently added yoga to my life. While it has tremendously helped my flexibility, I am more impressed with how it has helped my mind. At the end of each practice, our instructor asks us to take a minute to notice any new space we have created in our body or mind. It never ceases to amaze me; there is always more space! How did I do that? I created space in my tight hips while simultaneously creating a little sliver of uncluttered, momentary space in my mind. Wow. Space is a beautiful luxury that is earned, not given, or at least that is how I have marked its value in my world. It is a final frontier. Instead of exploring it, I am on a mission to create it. I want to be a space creator on and off the yoga mat.

In my professional life I have always recognized my duty to create a safe space where students can try, fail, and then learn how to improve. It is through trial and error that we grow and internalize the lessons we need to know. I build a community of writers in my classroom. My students all share their own writing, and perhaps more importantly, they read the work of others. “Read as writers and write as readers.” I know they need a comfortable space where they can create and think but also receive encouragement and feedback. That space is sacred. Writing is thinking, and we don’t have to do that alone. When students tell me at the end of the semester that I helped them “find their voice,” I tell them it was there all along. I just gave them space to use it.

Likewise, as a CrossFit coach I love celebrating the success of my athletes. Each time I receive feedback saying, “You guys have changed my life,” I smile and respond that THEY changed their life. We just created space and support, but they had to put in all the work to make the changes.

When I examine the success of my marriage, I wonder how much of it involves understanding the balance of created space and togetherness. If Brent gave me too much space, I would be hurt or feel neglected. Instead, he recognizes that in all areas of my life I need a safe space to grow. I want space to try and fail as an athlete. I do that quite often. As my coach, he pushes me and provides my space to grow. As a daughter, he knows I need space to mourn. Watching my mother fade away into the complete darkness of memory loss is painful and deserving of great sadness. As a wife, he knows I need space for romance and friendship, as well as an unfiltered mirror to show me what I am, not what I wish to see. As a teacher, he knows I need space to work, share victories and occasionally complain about grading. Clearly, I am just a woman who needs SO much space.

So where does a space for parenting come into play? Most days I go to bed questioning my performance as a mother. I am confident as a teacher and coach, but what about this monumental task that I am completely unqualified to do? Raising humans. I’m not patient or nurturing or even creative. As a general rule, I don’t even like kids. That is why I teach teenagers and adults. But every once in awhile I have a breakthrough. What if the ideas that I am using in other areas of my life are also applicable to motherhood? What if it doesn’t have to be a beast of its own, completely unrelated to my experience and training? Is creating space a style of parenting?

About a month ago, I had this epiphany. My kids came home from school at 4 in the afternoon. I had approximately one hour to see them before I left to coach. I needed to make it count, but I was also in a planning session with one of our coaches. We were busy planning a new program to empower teenage girls. She brought her kids to the house for the meeting. It was a deliberate meeting/playdate scenario.

My kids busted through the front door at 4 pm, as expected. They said hello, dropped their backpacks, and ran straight outside to play with the other kids. They played the entire hour; then it was time for me to go coach. The working mother guilt engulfed me in an instant. I had one solid hour to spend with my children, and I wasted it. I prioritized work. I could have grabbed them and rocked them in my lap talking about their day for 60 minutes. Instead, I barely even made eye contact with them.

But wait a minute. Did I fail them? Or were they too busy playing with friends out in the open air and sunshine to notice? I was in a work meeting, but I also planned that meeting to be at my house where our kids could play outside while we worked. Maybe what I lamented as neglect was actually space I created for my children to thrive and be happy!

To think that I must be present and involved with my children every second of the day is to sell short my role as a mom. I have never had children that were attached to my hip or shy around other adults. Maybe what I consider to be my own failure as a mother has actually created independent little humans who don’t require my presence to feel my presence. It is the very space they need to play and learn.

 Brent and I made the decision to send our kids to a nature-based charter school that is a 45 minute drive from our house. It is definitely not convenient and is non-traditional in every sense of the word. We saw this school as beautiful, fertile soil with lots of room for our kids to stretch and grow, literally and figuratively. We wanted them to expand beyond the walls of a traditional classroom setting. When we found their school we were thrilled to say, “Yes! There are other ways to do it!” Raising our kids to enjoy and love learning while appreciating their surroundings and nature is part of our goal by intentionally selecting a unique space for their education.

As CrossFit affiliate owners, we could say our kids are growing up in a box. We “take them to work” at least 3-4 days a week. There are times my ugly guilt voice bellows in my head about this one too. “You are not spending time with your kids! They will remember you as a workaholic! Why can’t you be present? You are helping all these other people and neglecting your own kids.” But what about the flip side? My kids GET to come to work with me. They GET to have this entire community of people surrounding and supporting them. They understand what it means to help other people and celebrate the success of everyone, not just their own. They are present with me in a space that fosters growth and self-improvement. Suddenly, life in a box doesn’t sound so bad.

Part of my role as a parent also involves maintaining a space for my marriage. This space is VITAL, and I will fight tooth and nail to save it. We have “I Love You Wednesdays.” It started because I did not teach on Wednesdays and had time for us to eat lunch together. A lunch date eventually evolved into a whole day that starts when we roll over and see each other for the first time on Wednesday morning. “Good morning! It’s I love you Wednesday!” Our kids know how important my time is with their dad. They moan and roll their eyes when Brent announces, “I can’t. I am going to spend time with your mom tonight.” They understand we will drive 30 minutes together to get just the right cup of coffee. They know we need space to talk, laugh, and sometimes cry. I don’t always know how they will remember me from their childhood, but I do know they will remember that I loved their dad and our “space” was sacred.

The opportunities for creating space are endless. Maybe I am also creating space when I take them to the library and fill their lives with books and stories. Maybe I am creating space when I drive them to gymnastics where they learn to strengthen and control their bodies and minds. Maybe I am creating space when I prioritize family outdoor time. Maybe I am creating space when we take family trips to the farmer’s market.

When I finish a yoga class, I am not fully cognizant of the space I have created. That awareness comes in taking time to intentionally pause and notice the space. Perhaps that is the step I am missing in parenting. Joan Didion said, “I don’t know what I think until I write about it.” Maybe I don’t know what I have created until I stop and think about it. I need to take pause and notice the spaces I create for my children on a daily basis. There is still so much work to be done and room for improvement, but I might be surprised to see so much beautiful, home grown space hiding in plain sight. And ultimately, I can hope the mere fact that I am deliberately creating space will encourage them to pursue healthy spaces in their own lives.