Room for What Won't Fit

Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.

We plan the day in advance, sketch its outline, know what we'll need. But Mary Oliver asks for something harder: a deliberate looseness, a space left blank. Not confusion or passivity. Rather, the clarity that comes from holding your grip lightly. Your breath knows this already. Inhale, and you cannot predict where the exhale will take you. Some mornings it settles deep. Some mornings it rises quick. The unimaginable is not distant or grand. It is the next five minutes, still forming, still yours to meet with an open hand.