#190 Space or Place?
Place situates me. Space frees me.
I was talking to a friend about the Nook and our exploration of space when I said “place” instead.
I corrected myself and we moved on. But something in me didn’t. There was a small discomfort at first. And then a strange tickling feeling. A sense that something had been uncovered.
They are obviously not synonyms, I thought. And as soon as I thought that, curiosity opened.
I don’t mean in a dictionary sense. Or in physics. I’m not interested in coordinates and definitions. I mean in the way the words move inside me.
When I say space, something opens.
When I say place, something settles.
Place situates me.
If you’re looking for me and I tell you the place, you can find me. It has terrain. It has measure. It can be pointed to. It stays where it is unless physically altered.
Place is somewhere.
Space feels different. It feels interior and expansive at the same time. It feels like an opening that stretches beyond the body. When I say I need space, I don’t mean a location. I mean a loosening. Somewhere I can breathe. Somewhere no demands are made of me. Somewhere I can dissolve a little.
And strangely, space feels more intimate than place.
Place can be shared. We meet in a place. We inhabit it together. It has dimensions and walls and coordinates.
But space, space feels personal. Almost sacred. It feels like something I enter alone.
And then this thought scared me a little.
Because when I close my eyes, I can feel spaciousness without any physical space at all.
In meditation, there are moments when the body softens and thoughts thin out and something opens. It feels like an expanse. The confinement of being “me” loosens. I forget the edges of my body, my mind, my thoughts, my idea of self.
Is that space?
Or is that something else?
When I try to observe that spaciousness, I notice something strange: I can observe myself enjoying it, but the spaciousness itself cannot be observed.
It doesn’t feel like something inside me. It feels like me.
And this is where I begin to step into territory I don’t fully understand.
Because if spaciousness can exist without physical space, then what is space? Is physical space just a tool that helps me access that feeling? A doorway into something less confined?
And then where does place fit into this?
Place feels more constructed. It has boundaries. It belongs to history and memory. It can exclude. It can situate. It can define.
Space feels less attached. Less personal. Less owned.
Maybe that’s why space feels freer.
But I don’t want to choose between them. Because place gives me ground. Space gives me air. Place lets you find me. Space lets me forget myself.
The Nook was meant to explore space. But maybe what we are really doing is moving between the two, between expansion and arrival.
I don’t know yet which one is truer. I only know that when I say space, my breath widens. And when I say place, my feet touch the floor.
If you’re curious, try it. Say space quietly to yourself. Notice how that feels. What memories it brings for you. What emotions emerge. And then say place and notice again.
I don’t think they are synonyms. But I’m not sure they are opposites either. Maybe they are movements. Maybe we need both. And maybe the interesting question isn’t which one is real. Maybe it’s this: When do you need one more than the other?