Shared Space

 "Pull up a chair, take a taste, come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious." Ruth Reichl

We found ourselves sharing space in the treehouse setting of our Airbnb.  My eyes startled open to the sound of a hooting owl during a moment of stillness on the deck.  Birds swooped into the hanging feeder full of dried corn, numerous chipmunks and squirrels scurried around the outdoor eating space, and butterflies settled on the wildflowers that reached the upper deck.   It was clear that we were not only in a  shared space with each other but it was as if the trees were whispering a welcome, the squirrels inviting us to adopt their playful nature, and the birds let us know they too belonged right here. This presence allowed us to witness how gently we can all exist on the earth together.  

Every year, my husband Mark and I trepidatiously embark on a two-night three-day getaway to a place where we can reconnect, be in the outdoors and share time and space together without interruption. This year we found ourselves at a beautiful hideaway just outside Fundy National Park in Alma.  Set high on a hill was a sacred oasis of comfort, luxury, and shared space with the natural world.  Even though we go with some hesitation, as only lifetime caregivers may relate, we ease into this time with no expectations and full appreciation for what a gift this is.   Time to share meals, conversation, laughter, bike rides, hikes, swims, and ease into the comfort of being able to be real and present with our hopes and intentions, a shared space that can't be taken for granted.  

If you live in this area you are sure to have visited the local pub/ coffee shop in Alma, situated near the end of the main street in a building that used to be a local church.  I am guessing that this is why the name  The Holy Whale was birthed.   This place became our touchstone over the few days we were there, swooping in for a quick Buddha Bear coffee for my husband, Mark, and then back later after full days of play, for Kombucha on the patio bar stools.  Coming back later in the day, we spotted a couple who had been there since our coffee heist and were still enjoying their time lingering on the patio and chatting. We shared a laugh about when I had left earlier and tried to get into a vehicle that was not my own but the same color as mine.   This happens to me regularly and I like to think I am not alone.   We settled on the bar stools in the corner close to the door and while Mark was getting our drink, I noticed a woman alone next to me having a glass of wine.  Being out of touch with sharing space with strangers in the last few years, I suppose I was closed to really seeing her and kept averting my eyes in the other direction to give her the space I assumed she wanted.   When Mark returned, she was finishing up her drink and was attempting to get down off of her very high stool, graciously.  Both the person sitting on the other side of her and my husband reached out to help steady her and the stool.  Just as she was about to embark, the waiter arrived with another drink for her which he proceeded to tell her was from the couple that I identified as the ones I shared a laugh with.   Both parties automatically began to help her get situated back on her stool while she thanked them and chuckled about what happens when you get older.  The opening was there now for conversation and it was clear she was happy to engage.  A moment later, a young man approached her calling her "Nana" and she proudly introduced him as her grandson who was visiting from Spain.  She had a good laugh about him coming to retrieve her from the bar and how her family was always worrying and looking out for her now at "her age".   He was seemingly unconvinced about the drink being a gift from a stranger so everyone on our side of the stools, corroborated her story.  He easefully joined the conversation and we learned of how he had been supposed to visit a week earlier but had been ill with possible appendicitis.  He shared that he had lived his whole life to this point in Spain and his mom had been from the area but had met his father in Newfoundland and his work took him to Spain so she followed as well and has been a teacher there ever since.   A short time-lapse and his father arrived at the establishment to retrieve now his son and his mother-in-law.   We also learned that his wife was with her sister in Moncton for the day and the father/son duo was enlisted to keep a close eye on Nana.   Still jovial and taking it all in stride, Nana said she used to roam this area as a young girl searching for cute boys but had been living in Ottawa for the past twenty-five years and her daughter, a teacher like her sister, had just retired from teaching in Ottawa and asked her mother if she wanted to move back with her.  She was from a much smaller area called Beaverbrook and was hopeful about seeing her old family home now that she was here to live.   The person who had graciously assisted Nana, as we will call her, was enjoying a homemade pretzel and complimenting the waiter/chef with his partner while sharing a few smiles as he shared space with us and the stories he could hear being offered.  Opening to the entire shared space, there was a group at a table who had been hiking together all day and sharing uncontrollable laughs about the foibles of their day, another read a book and took in their surroundings.   We lingered much longer than we had intended watching those coming in and out of the doors as well as those who decided to sit and join us on the patio.   It occurred to us how much we missed this type of interaction with strangers and how easy it is with people that are vacationing and have left their agendas at home.   

It had me contemplating how important shared space is and how deprived we have been for some time.  Even within our families, we are often looking for ways to give each other more space within our homes, in our experiences and endeavors but not as much time is given to how we will connect and share within the space we have in the present.  Even though this can be part of healthy boundaries that can often be necessary to create separate spaces,   I can't help thinking about people who lived in tribes, colonies, family farms, and small tight-knit communities and not wonder if they had something that we may be drifting away from altogether. When we think of shared space, there are airports, planes, busses, classrooms, hospitals, libraries, restaurants, concerts, parks, playgrounds, hiking trails, and beaches to name a few. Places we gather for leisure or with agenda. These spaces can be where we recognize our belonging to something greater than ourselves or where we feel more separate and isolated.  The energy that is exchanged in these spaces, no one is impervious to.   I think the analogy of this local pub as a mini civilization just makes sense.   All of the travelers or strangers drifted into one place.  We were intergenerational, varying genders and relationship identities, from different places in the world, with little to no shared experience, and yet, here we were, sharing a moment, a drink, a laugh, a space without any judgments, staying open to receive each other with respect, understanding, and grace as though we all equally belong right here, right now, as we did.  The now that brings a presence to all things and with that presence empathy, compassion, and a universal sense of belonging to something bigger than ourselves.  

My husband and I were definitely in need of some time to share space with each other but it also became clear that we needed to share space with others as well.   We needed to interweave our stories and lives with others, to be with those who are also traveling the larger shared space of the world we are traveling and experiencing and to which we are all deserving to belong.   

What if we could go through more of our days like a traveler on vacation who leaves that agenda at home? And what if we could remain open to people in all of the shared spaces we find ourselves in knowing that we all belong here and to each other?  That we don't just belong but need each other to exist. And as the expressions go, let's keep extending those tables, opening those doors, and sharing those spaces with all of life's weary travelers.