I am devoted to trusting the in between time. The time between launching one thing and inventing another. The time between going to a friend’s house and going for a walk. The time between waking up and making my coffee. The time between writing books. The time between teaching classes.
The in between time is where everything actually lives. The gathering of data, the rest the body needs, the little sparks of inspiration that you can only find from waiting, not from looking. Looking for the in between will not prove fruitful. We bide time with patience.
There is the time in between my birthday this year and my birthday next year, a whole year of in between. There is the time between waking up and going to sleep, which we know as a day. The in between of the bed frame to the wall where the eye mask slips. The in between space of silence when the UPS man comes up the driveway and June doesn’t realize it yet, right before she starts to bark.
There is the time between when you are born and when you will die, the time between when you hear the news of a hard thing and when your body is ready to feel it.
The in between teaches me that waiting is just as important as pushing forward. The time just before sunrise we know as dawn and the time when the sun returns to its spot below the horizon we call dusk. The way the sun shows us there are different seasons of the in between and how not all in betweens are created equal.
There is the in between time of jobs and paychecks, the in between of knowing where money comes from and that it is coming at all. The buoyancy required to let this time be comfortable isn’t taught to us, we learn it together.
The in between time of heartache and feeling ready to love again, how these cross over with the falling and the in between doesn’t have a clear start and finish. The way grief carries itself in and out of every relationship. The way a year and a half later the smallest thing can remind you of what no longer is, filling you with gratitude for what is now here, but pain for what could have been.
There is the time in between when I record a podcast episode and when you hear it. Which is much longer than the time in between when I write this newsletter and when you read it. I am always learning to unhook from the dopamine spin of reactions. The time it takes a reader to react, my love to react to a harsh comment, my dog to react to her recall, the time it takes for me to recalibrate back to my life beyond the screen after I catch a quick adrenaline rush.
The in between when you feel the swell of knowing something good is upon you, and the moment it will inherently come crashing down. Instead of crashing it might trickle to something different. The wave of feelings and what happens in between them is what to trust the most. It will always swing back up, and withstanding the in between gets easier. We learn to greet it in new ways.
May we trust that more ideas are coming
Letting the in between appear rather than an effort in searching
What we have now is exactly enough
Listen to the newest episode of Common Shapes with
A lot of folks know my work in specific ways, and what does it mean to now want to be doing a lot of writing? And where does that work exist within the understanding of my work in a larger audience, but also remain its own thing that is not understandable, or that is to be read only by myself and a handful of friends? In those moments, I forced myself to literally draw a web or make a map of this ecosystem that is my practice. Because the things that feed me and the things that bring me joy and the things that challenge me — the confusion and the blur and the not knowing where to place those projects is a part of the web, which is humbling and also more confusing. -
I want to invite you to The Artist’s Way Book Study starting Sunday June 18 for paid subscribers of the Monday Monday newsletter
I have already received so many thoughtful messages of how right on time this book study is. For now : grab a copy! Read the intro and start to do morning pages and consider how you might be willing to be broken open in new ways.
Alongside this study I am going to participate in #1000wordsofsummer - two weeks of writing 1000 words a day
I sense a great need for deeper work, more focus, and devotion to our craft
I am teaching The World Needs Your Online Class next month. I taught this class in 2021 and am so excited to bring it back. Looking forward to supporting your teaching journey.
A portion of June’s paid subscriptions go towards the Grand Rapids Pride Center
⌇⋰ Website
⌇⋰ Email : info@marleegrace.space
⌇⋰ PO Box 252 Cedar, MI 49621
On my birthday last week I wrote : Thirty five things I know at thirty five
