The space between the windows

Gordie Jackson
2 min readJun 20, 2020

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Image by LUM3N from Pixabay

I have two rooms with chairs both near windows. I walk between them throughout the day. They create space and I need to walk in space. Out of one window I see only trees, the grass beneath them and the ever blue sky above. I could be anywhere. I am anywhere, just me and the scene before me.

In the other room the window catches the light better yet the space is cooler. I have an angle at which I sit which is influenced by the rising sun. I don’t know why but I am more connected to the sun out of this window. It just seems further away out of the other. It rises out of this one, it has moved away from me in the other. By dusk, it is back round at the other but it is tired now and so am I. It is ending not beginning.

It is not only the space between walking between rooms and sitting on different chairs by different windows, there is also space that opens us after I have expended all my energy on a matter. I am free of that I have carried for a time. I know not the outcome but I know I feel the space that has opened up. I have been freed of that I carried. I sit by ‘the rising sun window’. Will I sit here forever looking out beyond and beyond again? I move between the space and sit by the window of ‘the faraway sun’. I feel the space. I think, “What shall I fill it with?” For now, nothing, just enjoy the space of being.

I find my way to a can of coke. I enjoy it in the space. Is there a voice saying to me, “ What would you like to do in this space, it is totally free for you to choose what you want to do.” I find my way to here and write the last story. I book a plumber for the toilet that is forever demanding my attention. I send an email to Archangel asking that he sends an email to everyone telling them, “ Don’t block the bins”. I read a bit of Knausguaard. I like how he writes. I don’t watch Shtisel. I want to watch series 2 but is zaps the freedom of the space by evoking emotions that don’t need to be. Will I put the rice on and the curry in the oven? No, not yet, just be in the space.

I walk to the lake, such a beautiful lake and as I return I phone the one who says, “Hi dad” like no one else does.

Best day,

g

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Gordie Jackson
Gordie Jackson

Written by Gordie Jackson

Speaks with a Northern Irish accent, lives in Hertfordshire, England.

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