Observing the space between things
Look around. What do you see?
Probably things. A table, a glass, a book. Perhaps a tree outside the window. We are trained to see things. Objects. Shapes. Outlines.
But what about the space between them?
The space we overlook
There is a gap between the glass and the book. There is air between the table and the wall. There is sky between the leaves of the tree. This space is always there. And we almost never notice it.
Yet it is precisely this space that gives things their shape. Without the space between letters, you could not read this sentence. Without the stillness between notes, there would be no music. Without the pause between breaths, no life.
Laozi put it succinctly over two thousand years ago: we shape clay into a vessel, but it is the emptiness inside that makes it useful. We put up walls, doors and windows, but it is the space between them that we inhabit.
Space is not nothing. It is what holds everything.
Inhabiting the body
Before you can observe the space between things, it helps to first feel the space within yourself. Your body. Not as an idea, but as a living experience.
Place a hand on your chest. Not to do anything, but to notice that someone is there. That beneath your hand, there is breathing, pulsing, living. You do not have to control it. It is already happening.
Feel your feet on the floor, the weight that holds you. And then let your attention soften, like a gaze that widens.
That is the starting point. You are here. From here, you can look.
The exercise
Open your eyes. Softly, relaxed. No sharp focus.
Choose two objects in your field of vision. It does not matter which. Two books on a shelf. A cup and a lamp. Two trees in the park.
Now: instead of looking at the objects, turn your attention to the space between them. To the gap. To what is there where there is no thing.
This feels strange at first. The mind immediately wants to return to the objects. It looks for shapes, meanings, names. Let it. And gently return to the space.
If you stay with it, the space can come alive. For me, in such moments, it does not feel empty, but still, spacious and surprisingly present.
Now slowly widen your field of vision. Notice the whole space in which the things are situated. The things are in the space, not the other way round – at least, that is how it can feel in this moment.
You do not have to achieve anything. You do not have to understand anything. Just notice.
What changes
If you do this exercise regularly, even for just a minute or two, something in your perception can change.
Things can lose their heaviness. Not that they disappear. But they become more permeable. You see them, and at the same time you see the space from which they emerge.
Thinking can become quieter. Not because you suppress it, but because you give the mind something it cannot grasp. Space has no name, no edge, no story. The mind can relax because there is nothing to do.
And sometimes, in a still moment, it feels to me as if I am this space myself – as if the awareness that perceives the space has the same quality as the space itself. Still. Spacious. Open.
Try it. Now. Look up from the screen.
Do not look at the things. Look at the space between them.
And notice who is looking.
By the way, this exercise is particularly lovely on a walk. Between the trees, the houses, the people – there is space everywhere. And outdoors, in movement, it becomes almost tangible.