What is left empty grace will fill

One of my patterns is to fill my life so full that there is barely any time for space. I long for space, I long for freedom, yet I tend to fill my life so full with things (work, side-hustles, busyness, anything) so that I don’t have to stand still.

I am realizing that I am almost unable to stand still.

Part of me believes it’s because I’m just so passionate about life and that there are just so many things I still want to do. I constantly feel like I’m running out of time, and how there are still 10 lifetimes worth of adventures I want to explore. There are so many things I want to create and experience, how could I possibly stand still on this earth?

Then there is the part of me that knows I’m running. It knows I’m escaping because I’m scared of the emptiness that might come if I stop.

During the past 10 years I have recovered from a burn-out that happened because I was filling my life too much with work. So I vowed never to do that again, and sure enough, I haven’t filled my life to the brim with work since then.

But I have managed to fill it up with all kinds of other things, instead.

At first it was our little lifestyle business that took me and my partner to the Philippines for three years to manage a resort. But instead of enjoying myself fully, I was busy trying to launch a business so that we could keep on enjoying the life we had.

Ironically, I already HAD the life I wanted… But I didn’t see it, I kind of burned out, and we returned to Europe.

I don’t have a business, I have a busy-ness

During my maternity leave I dived head first into my second business, web design, which was my escape until our son turned four. Although I’m getting better and better at letting things go when the time comes, it still gets me every time when I realize it’s time to let go.

I rebel and I don’t feel ready, although I know that continuing something your heart is against, is futile. So I let go.

In the aftermath of letting go I felt lost and sad, with a hint of grief and disbelief.

What was the point of the past four years if it didn’t lead to anything? And with “anything” I meant financial success beyond measure. But I knew I had to let it go, I knew it had come to its end, and although I was sad about it, part of me was relieved and trustful.

As I was called to let go of this business, I was realizing that the reason I hang onto these concepts, these busy-nesses is that I’m petrified of the emptiness that will emerge once I let go.

There is something there for me in this emptiness, something I must travel towards and something that is calling me, no matter the fright.

Becoming the human being

I’m currently reading a book called “Light is the new black” from Rebecca Cambell, and it’s already one of my favorite books! One of the messages that most hit home is this: What is left empty, grace will fill.

This is exactly what I needed to hear, and this is what I’m reminding myself daily, as I move towards the emptiness.

I don’t fully know why the emptiness feels so scary. But it tastes like purposelessness, being wasteful, not living up to my potential, not having a passion and not being useful.

I am confusing the being with the doing.

I tend to believe I’m here to DO, and therefore it’s hard for me to allow myself to be. But then I remember. I have done this before. I know like no other how to let go and surrender. And I know like no other how wonderful it is when there is emptiness –space- and grace is allowed to enter.

When grace enters

Walk with me…

When I had just turned 30 I divorced, and after living alone in the Netherlands for another 1.5 years after that (during which I spent the first year running in the form of drinking, clubbing and dating), I settled down and had a calling to move back to my home country Finland, where I hadn’t lived for 10 years.

I sold most of my furniture, which at first felt scary (because yikes, the emptiness would be quite literal), but the more I sold and the more empty my apartment got, the better I felt. I felt free of the past, I felt free of my patterns and … there was space.

It wasn’t emptiness after all, it was space full of promise and adventure.

I kept a green hammock that had been on my balcony, and I remember lying on the hammock in the middle of my empty living room feeling so incredibly free.

I moved to Finland, and although my new apartment was half the size, it was still empty. And because I didn’t know many people in Helsinki, my days were empty as well.

I was 32 and there was so much space in my life. I didn’t have patterns, hobbies, relationships or obligations besides my new work. Everything was open, everything was new.

And I love it!

I loved it because it felt like adventure. I wasn’t in a hurry to fill my life up with stuff, with busyness or with obligation. I took the time to walk around the city, aimlessly, and just enjoyed my space. I felt peaceful, hopeful and at ease.

And then grace filled me up.

Two weeks after I had moved to Finland I met my partner, my husband and the father of my child. And because I had time and space, there was space to explore life with him, allow him in and build something together with him.

And as by grace, his life was filled with space as well.

Meeting him was the beginning of the most adventure-filled decade of my life, and to date my life with him is still the favorite part of my existence.

All because I let go.

All because I ran towards the emptiness.

All because I learned to lean into it, to embrace it and to make friends with it.

All because I trusted (although perhaps not in these words as I’m using today) that what I leave empty, grace will fill.

Letting go together

Since then we have let go together. Three years later we let go of everything we knew and flew to live in the Philippines. Three years after that we let go again, and flew back. I let go of my resistance and fear and we became parents.

So as I’m standing here –again-, hesitantly letting go and staring into the abyss of the unknown, I want to do it trustingly.

I want to trust that emptiness equals space, and space equals freedom.

I want to trust that I will be OK, I am supported and I am well.
I am tired of being busy, I am tired of running. I am tired of escaping.

Because at the end of the day, I think the purpose of it all lies in the emptiness.

So grace, come, I’m all yours.