I left London in such a hurry 18 months ago at the beginning of lockdown. So many people have told me how brave I was which makes me wince a little as all I can remember is the hideous fear I felt that seemed to propel me into the unknown. I’d spoken to my then boyfriend, about living together “one day” but I’m not sure I’d have ever actually put my flat on the market and left the home, friends and city I loved so much.
Then came lockdown…. to say I crapped myself is putting it mildly. I was truly terrified. As a single parent who hadn’t heard of zoom and only ever done one FaceTime I was in a state of shock and denial as over the course of a week I saw every job I’d had for years just disappear by the day.
I’ve got serious root chakra issues, and always have, so in a highly stressed fight or flight state I moved to Southampton for what I thought would be a few weeks. Bit of a holiday really.
So here I am 18 months later, some days still grieving but totally loving the space I’ve created. My sacred space. A beautiful healing space for yoga and reiki healing in Southampton. It’s beautiful and I bless it every day - change is the only thing we can ever rely on and I’m so grateful for the changes that got me here today..
I think the poem below sums up scary and sacred way more eloquently than me.
The space between us
Yes, the space between us is scary. But scared and sacred are so close — and we need to make space for both.
Yes, the space between us is scary.
It is odd and at odds,
an area unoccupied where all things exist.
But the space between us is also liminal,
a threshold between old and new.
And so, in this space anything is possible:
to grow without gathering,
to connect without congregating,
to create without convening.
Which means the space between is sacred.
Yes, the space between us is scary.
But scared and sacred are so close —
and we need to make space for both.
Jessica Minnen