Executive function roadblock. Heartbreaking news. Soul destroying dissonance. The autistic empathic resonance is painful, weeping and grieving for a callous humanity, a humanity so oblivious of our delicate gut-wrenching empathy for the things unspoken, yet so powerfully reverberating through the very fibres of our Being.
We need Clement Space.
Get away from the terrible soul destroying news. Humanity at its worst. And – you know that I know that we know – there is no end to it, for as long as humans survive.
Yet… somehow… there is goodness in humanity yet. What conundrum is this?
Here is a poignant and beautiful piece by Sparrow M. Rose, musing on my theme of Clement Space (a concept inspired by Lucy Like-a-Charm).
I need this today. We need this today. Come inside Clement Space.
by Sparrow M. Jones
“Assume a kind world where everything you need is everywhere you go.” – Patti Digh
Endogenous space. Contracting to the single point within. Free-fall to the center where infinite smallness expands, hidden in the waistcoat of antimatter.
Exogenous space. Expanding to an infinite perimeter encompassing nothing. Drift, gravity-free to the periphery where infinite grandeur contracts, hidden in plain sight.
In clement space, the kindness of strangers wrings a glissando of vowels, a song of comfort murmured close to the ear, breath in the hair. Everything will be all right.
In clement space, the nightmares shred like paper, scatter like sand, drift away to smoke-filled horizons that burn without flame.
In clement space, this moment is. Intersecting with itself alone, kairos drowning chronos. The clement kairos storms with the thunder of ultimate nowness.
Clemency. The clement sea. The space between the shores is liminal not limiting. To hold a clement space within is to spread a balm of mercy upon the shredded lining of the soul, compassion as wide as the clement sea. Clemency.
The places where two spirits touch are tarnished by temporal heaviness but burnished in clement space. Time weighs the spirit down like a millstone pulling inexorably, weightlessly, sinking to the ocean floor. Clement space bears all sorrows, lifting them gravity-free to the surface, to whitecaps of briny tears shed for the infinite nowness of ever.
In clement space, a shibui stillness carves sunlight through the earthen underbrush. A crimson knowing rises sinuously from the trampled ferns.
In clement space, we are devouring our own tails, we are devoured by our own tales. The story unfolds like the opening buds of a delicate flower that only blooms when it forgets to blossom.
In time you will come to be like a ship bound ceaselessly for shores of commerce. In clement space, time falls away like stars shooting from creation’s core, sailing from the beginning of time to the beginning of time, a journey of relative swerve.
Clement space is not outside of time. Clement space transcends time. The nowness of clement space is the everness of never.
When you no longer fret about the future or mourn the irretrievable past, your feet step lively through clement space.
When you no longer yearn nor yearn to be yearned for, your heart beats steadfastly in clement space.
When you hold the sun in your left hand and recline upon the French curve of the waning crescent moon, your head spins in clement space.
When you invite the beggar to dinner, he bestows upon you the wisdom of clement space.
When you capture a spider and release it on a gorse flower, your fingers trace the rough-hewn outlines of clement space.
When you sit with the seasons, hearing the song of the trees and smelling the tang of eternity like orange blossoms upon your tongue, your body sinks buoyantly into clement space.
If you seek clement space, it will be one pace ahead of you the whole while. Clement space cannot be found; it finds you. You find yourself within clement space when you stop reaching out for it and allow it to flow forth from within.
You are the infinite source of clement space.
You are the infinite source.