Holding Spaces
The image that comes to mind is that of a weird, imaginary table cloth. Some sort of transparent, invisible sheet that unfolds between us.
I don’t think it is right that I am the only one that should be holding it, do you? Like… if that was the case one of the ends of this table cloth will inevitably fall off this cliff edge that lies beyond our connection.
So here. Take this edge, you take another one and you and you and you…
Do you see it? Is it round? Or a triangle? Some sort of prism rotating on itself, shining its lights all over this small universe we just created….
Can you hear it?
It keeps unfolding and unfolding and unfolding… Did you know that the actual universe, the one we are already in, the one our flimsy tablecloth is suspended on is perpetually growing? It has an elliptical shape, it is the same shape as our DNA. It is a funnel where stars go to die.
And we are here. Now. Holding on to an imaginary end of this ever expanding reality.
How cool is that? How extraordinary! How f*cking terrifying, yet… exhilarating?!
Can you feel it? If I tug at this cloth are you pulled towards me, away from the abyss?
Look… I do not know what happens next but I think I need to trust you. And you. And you and you, me. And if we all count to three and let go, we might just land where we need to be…
Let’s try it….
one
two
three.
This short piece was first written during the January 2024 Union Facilitators’ Weekend in Castleton, UK - A weekend of training, facilitation and holding space for creatives and activists.