JC explores the idea of the thin space—the in-between moments between past and future, light and dark—and leads a reflective conversation about noticing small, shared moments of presence.
Well, hey, good morning cadre. How are we doing today? I hope you're doing great. I really, really do. And yes, I always, always, always do hope that, but I'll still say it. I hope you're doing great. And if you're not, you're still incredibly capable of doing some pretty amazing things. My name is JC. If we've never shared a time in space together before, thank you for the opportunity to spend some time with you right now. The seasons are always changing the day, the time, the temperature, what's in your head and your heart and your body, what's outside your head, heart and body.
So every time you bump in here, you may be going, huh, I wonder what there is to find today. You may end up finding the same thing, but your perspective or perception of it may wiggle and alter a little bit. M affy, jewels, candy Mac, how are y'all doing today? Nice to see you. As proof that everything 's always changing, Jen Verale, normally I'm parked 20 feet that way, but the sun is currently in a place where all of a sudden I couldn't see the screen and the screen couldn't seem to face because of the sunshine sunshine.
So I had to back up into the spot behind me, which goes to show you the world's always changing. On Sundays, I quite often talk about this idea of the thin space. The thin space is the space in between all the things that have and all the things that will, all the things that are loud and all the things that are quiet, all the things that are dark and all the things that are light, all the things that exist right in that precarious place. In that precarious place, I think the world resonates most loudly with the 17 words that we often start with.
And that is, I'm glad that I'm here. I'm glad that you're here. I know what I know and I care about you. Morning, Nikki. I sometimes be wondered, it's like, gosh, am I the only one who? And for moments that may be true, right? You may be, just for a moment, it's like the only one who is in a specific space yet that thin space is always oscillating and changing and moving. So to go ahead and know that there's gladness, that space is being shared, that there are things we know within this space and that we care about each other, really cool things happen.
Jules has spent my morning, spent the morning with my coffee, watching the sunrise, doing lakeside reflections, peace for my soul. Yeah, I love that. What's your lake? Everybody else? Hey, Carrie, nice to see you. What's your lake? Right? Jules has a lake, like an actual lake. My lake right now is the kind of a plot of land on the other side of the street on the other side of the parking lot of the gas station, where the grass is just green. And there's trees on the other side and you go, Oh, before all this was here, it was all that.
And yet we can find those little, those little plots of land, those little urban oasis, I'm definitely not an urban setting right now. But you know what I mean, right? The places in between everything that's been built up and changed. So I'm curious, what is your, what is your lakeside or what is your peaceful space this morning? And then I'll scoop in to the river of thin space just for a moment. So I am on my way. So on Sunday mornings, you're very used to seeing me sit in my car in the parking lot of a gas station, because I'm on my way to work on Sunday mornings.
I've sat at a piano bench on Sunday mornings since 1998. That's 20, 27 years I've been sitting, sitting, sitting at a piano bench, making music for people to do the things that they do to feel the things they feel to believe the things they believe with the people that they do those things with. Today is my last Sunday at a piano bench on a Sunday morning. I bet I'll be at a piano bench on a Sunday morning sometime. But this is my last working on a piano bench on a Sunday morning. All of a sudden you go, wow, this chapter of life, which was 27 years long, is now going to be on the other side.
So the thin space was actually in the grand scheme of things, a pretty thick, thin space, a pretty widely drawn line. And yet, as I'm driving up here, it's so easy to do two things. You know what they are? To think back and to think ahead. That's the whole point of thin space. To go, we're tuned to go, I'm going to, oh, my gosh, let's think back to everything that was. Oh, my gosh, let's think ahead to everything that will be when in reality, we may end up missing the moment that we are in. So if you're at the beginning of something, or at the end of something, I encourage you to see that you are still exactly where you are.
Right? I'm still sitting in my car. I 'm still looking out at the green pasture on the other side of the street. I'm noticing it's chilly out this morning. I'm spending time with you. That's always the most nour ishment we could ever access, being where we are with what we have and honoring that. So my friends, honor the water, honor the lakeside, honor the the buddy, the Jack Russell, honor the west coast , the east coast, the north coast, the south coast, honor the calm, honor the loud, honor the anxiety, stillness, whatever you're experiencing, honor it for a moment.
Let's see what there is to tap into there. See you later.
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