My whole life I’ve been looking for the gap.
I'm actually looking for it right now.
And what is this gap? No, it's not the pants store.
It is the break, the time off, the vacation vibe. It's the window of time where there is no time.
It's actually the place of no time and space.
It's the gap between one obligation and another obligation.
Perhaps giving some examples and visuals may help...
I picture Fred Flintstone, upon hearing that whistle blow, screaming, "Yabadabadoo!"
I picture me walking home from 6th grade with Jamie Jordan, in mid-May, with this peace of mind knowing there was an extended summer ahead of us, full of timeless games on the lawn and long summer evenings.
I picture a family vacation to Magic Mountain, where we could run from ride to ride, especially after the sun went down when so many other folks had left the park ... leaving just us and the wild rides of the night.
I picture any holiday now - Christmas, Memorial Day, the Fourth of July - days when even the overlord government takes a day off and leaves us alone, allowing us to mainly focus on whatever it is we want.
Ah the gap.
That space that can be filled with just us and whatever our creative minds can dream up.
I recall as a college kid, after completing this immense journalism project - such as publishing an entire magazine - there would be this exhale, a sense of accomplishment, and then a belief that we could simply rest on our laurels for a bit.
How long was that "bit?" Oh, I don't know - a few weeks, maybe even a month?
I've noticed that over time, the busier I get, and the busier this world gets, the amount of time to rest on some laurels shrinks smaller and smaller.
Take yesterday for example. As soon as I finished publishing the Legacy Magazine as its editor, I spent a total of about five minutes enjoying the accomplishment ... before jumping right into the next assignment, task, obligation, deadline.
No real time to celebrate. No real opportunity to rest on laurels or on anything else. No real gap to fall into.
The deadlines encroached once again upon me, and I was off to the next task to busy this mind, pressure this heart and occupy this soul. The consistent need for income, especially as an entrepreneur with my own business, has me moving along the landscape of my life in this constant search, like a nomad, for meaningful and bountiful work. I feel like I must consistently be searching for money-making gigs in order to satisfy the money machine, which creates its own pace and non-ending supply of time-sensitive bills.
And so I long.
And so I long.
I long for that place I used to know, when the homework was done, the chores were complete, and I could just sit back with a David Letterman or a Conan O'Brien and just laugh a late night away. I long for the empty void of the deep night, where my creative muse greets me with a loving and gentle touch, reminding me of an eternal spring of magic.
I long for a world at sleep as I connect to something higher and bring forth words and inspiration not my own, but those of which I serve faithfully. I long for, and yet somehow avoid, the meditation and prayer that ushers me inward, ever closer, to the sublime timeless.
This is the place where I am happy and free.
It's where I ride the Cyclone or Jet Stream of Magic Mountain. It's the drive south to San Diego on a lovely vacation trip. It's the long summer evening, playing beyond dinner time and right up until the streetlights came on. It's where I leave behind, for just the moment, the bills and financial pressures. It's the "Yabadabadoo."
And it's here where I remember.
Yes, this is where I remember why I came here, where I came from, and the divine source of which we all originated and which we shall someday return...
... when the time is right.
James Anthony Ellis is a writer who can be found at www.LegacyProductions.org.