Discovering Space in Emptiness
No couch. No table. No chairs. I lived with an empty living room for over a year.
And I loved it.
I remembered this experience during a presentation I gave last week and was immediately transported back to that time in my mind:
I would lay on my back on the floor. Arms and legs stretched out wide. My eyes closed. I would just enjoy the feeling. The feeling of knowing that there is so much space around me.
I would dance around the room. Singing along to my favorite songs. Imagining myself in echo-y concert halls.
I would work on my laptop. Sitting cross-legged on the floor. Leaning against a different wall each time. Relishing the change of perspective.
For me, emptiness is a good thing.
Emptiness = Spaciousness = Possibilities
The Empty Sanctuary
In 1982, Diana Walker took a famous photograph for TIME, showing a young Steve Jobs sitting cross-legged in an almost empty living room in his home in Woodside, California.
A sound system for listening to music and a lamp for reading. Swap speakers and lamp with an iPod and Kindle, and you have me ten years ago. Just music, a good read, and the abundance of space – such simplicity is a luxury we often overlook in our cluttered modern age.
My own life-changing experience of inhabiting an empty room forever altered my perception of the power of spaciousness. It gave me a refreshed sense of self-awareness and clarity. It was my personal sanctuary.
From Speed to Spaciousness
Why am I talking about Steve Jobs in 1982 and me in 2013? Last week, I gave this presentation. The beginning was fast-paced. Idea after idea, slide after slide. A rapid-fire succession of my thoughts. I enjoyed the energy, the speed, and the fireworks feeling.
But as I neared the end, time seemed to slow down as I spent more time on each slide. I shifted gears, and was in no hurry, taking my time to let each slide breathe and come to life.
What I encountered at that moment was the same feeling of spaciousness. I rediscovered my true intentions for each slide. I re-connected with what I actually wanted to say. I felt my conviction stir and rise. I navigated my thoughts out loud with ease and my audience, entranced and captivated, drank in the uncluttered wisdom of those final slides.
Such is the effect of reducing intensity, clutter, and restlessness to a bare minimum. It’s the moment spaciousness makes an appearance – whether in a room or during a presentation.
The Invitation
Today's post is brief; fewer words mean more space for your own thoughts. I invite you to ponder the following question: What is an area in your life where you appreciate the emptiness, the spaciousness, the possibilities?
PS: I'd love to hear your answer. You could use the comment button below.

