Allow me to share my musings about a most extraordinary word - "Interstitial". I learned of this word during my invertebrate zoology class in college. It was introduced while describing interstitial fauna - tiny organisms (see the illustration) that inhabit spaces between individual sand grains. MICHAEL ALLABY. "interstitial fauna." A Dictionary of Zoology. envisioned creatures gliding through an environment filled with obstacles, constantly bumping into particles. These species adapted by living in the interstices; moving around in the spaces, thriving amongst the huge grains (at least from their perspective).
Years later the word interstitial bubbled up from the deep recesses of my memory. This time I was pondering the idea from a more human perspective of living life around, amongst, and between the obstacles of life. Like the fauna that innately flow in the interstices of sand grains, what about life flowing in the midst of the obstacles that arise? In other words, working through life's blockages, barriers, and insurmountable challenges not by ignoring or wishing them away, but by delving deeper into the interstices of one's heart and soul where innate wisdom resides
Years later the word interstitial bubbled up from the deep recesses of my memory. This time I was pondering the idea from a more human perspective of living life around, amongst, and between the obstacles of life. Like the fauna that innately flow in the interstices of sand grains, what about life flowing in the midst of the obstacles that arise? In other words, working through life's blockages, barriers, and insurmountable challenges not by ignoring or wishing them away, but by delving deeper into the interstices of one's heart and soul where innate wisdom resides
Life can suck. I've been mired in the dark side and sometimes quite unwilling to extract from the large, heavy walls I build around my heart for protection. I have a pretty strong voice inside of me that likes to dwell in those walls, even though I long for the light. My ego is a strong task master to all the other voices inside of me that love to resist change.
But when you "let the soft animal of your body love what it loves*," obstacles start to feel less dense. Instead of inflexible, stubborn resistance steeped in ego and "supposed-to-be's", there comes a willingness to let go into the interstices. At first it may feel like falling into a vast void of uncertainty, losing any sense of control, but, I ask, how certain is life...really? Step into the iNTERSTiTiAL Heart...…
*from Mary Oliver's poem "Wild Geese":
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
But when you "let the soft animal of your body love what it loves*," obstacles start to feel less dense. Instead of inflexible, stubborn resistance steeped in ego and "supposed-to-be's", there comes a willingness to let go into the interstices. At first it may feel like falling into a vast void of uncertainty, losing any sense of control, but, I ask, how certain is life...really? Step into the iNTERSTiTiAL Heart...…
*from Mary Oliver's poem "Wild Geese":
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
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