I recently returned from a road trip through the Eastern Sierra. I needed the open road, majestic nature, and long stretches of landscape with very little in the way. Mostly, I needed to create space — physically, mentally, and emotionally. The trip was physically tiring, but I came home feeling renewed. Sometimes stepping away from our routines, responsibilities, and the constant stream of things asking for our attention allows us to see our lives differently.
As someone who has spent much of her life focused on achievement — and who still considers herself a recovering type A German woman — creating space has not always come naturally to me. Doing comes easily, while simply being has required a bit more practice. We live in a culture that values productivity, achievement, and pushing through.
There is nothing wrong with ambition, but when constantly doing becomes our normal state, we can lose our ability to pause, recover, and listen to ourselves.
Our nervous systems need both activation and recovery, engagement and quiet. Creating space gives our minds and bodies an opportunity to settle, and sometimes that is when we can hear ourselves again. For me, the Eastern Sierra provided that space — mountains, lakes, open roads, and very little noise. With fewer distractions, I could feel myself slowing down.
Something else happened along the way that stayed with me. I encountered simple, unexpected kindness from strangers. At one point, my tire warning light came on and I pulled into the nearest gas station to get my tire pressure checked. The clerk had already finished his shift and was on his way out, but instead of leaving, he stopped and took care of me. When I offered to pay him, he refused. I told him I would pay his kindness forward, and he smiled and said, “That’s all I’m asking.” I carried those words with me.
On the final stretch home to Santa Barbara, my car suddenly lost power and went into limp mode. I managed to make it to Carpinteria, pulled into a parking lot, and requested a tow truck through my AAA app. Not even a minute later, I realized that the tow truck driver who had been dispatched to help me happened to be parked in the very same parking lot! What are the chances? There I was again, tired and a little worried, being helped by a stranger.
Neither of these encounters was a grand gesture. They were simply individuals assisting another person who needed a little help, and perhaps that is exactly why they touched me.
The experience reminded me that creating space can change what we notice. When we are rushing from one thing to another, our attention narrows to what needs to get done, what needs fixing, and what comes next. With a little more space, we may notice other things — a beautiful landscape, a moment of quiet, or a stranger who stays a few minutes after his shift to help. There IS a lot of goodness in the world. Sometimes we simply need enough space to notice it.
Creating space does not require a road trip through the Eastern Sierra. It can come while taking a walk without our phone, sitting quietly with a cup of coffee, spending time in nature, saying no to something we don’t really need to do, or leaving an afternoon unscheduled.
Creating space isn’t about escaping our lives. Sometimes it is how we return to it.
I came home physically tired, but with a quieter mind and a renewed appreciation for something I have spent years learning, both personally and professionally. We don’t always need to add one more thing to our lives. Sometimes we simply need to make room for who we already are.
