In art, when the subject of a picture is lessened somehow—or goes away altogether—the negative space appears. Sometimes it forms an image of its own, and I wonder why I didn’t see it at first.
Today I contemplate the negative space of 2020, the background blessings I perceive more than the main objects I’m supposed to see.
The main objects in the picture—the virus, the dissension, the election—are disturbing like bleeping smoke alarms, frightening like leaking carbon monoxide, unnerving like creeping black mold.
But what surrounds those “objects” in my life? What makes up the negative space of my picture?
Our girls, all living under our roof, close enough for me to squeeze.
Our refrigerator, full of ingredients to create meals at home.
Our cars, parked more and requiring less gas than ever.
Our Peace, securing my life as I breathe.
It turns out the negative space of my days is bright, strong, beautiful—and it overflows the entire scene.
This Thanksgiving, what do you see? What’s in the negative space of your life?
*Names in this blog have been changed to protect my family and friends in the neighborhood, and in a nod of appreciation to the beloved Swedish author Maj Lindman, I’ve renamed my three blondies Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.