in-ter-stice: an intervening space, especially a small one
-from Oxford, via Google search
I discovered this word after listening to Kylene Beers interview Naomi Shihab Nye, who has longtime been a favorite poet of mine. Nye spoke about her appreciation of the gaps, the spaces between things. I searched for a word to capture that idea and found interstice. I like the way it sounds…interstisss, with that soft cushion of sss at the end.
It is sort of a big, fancy word for such a small space. Did you know that interstitial creatures can be so small they live in between grains of sand? What really drew me to the word might have been the sample sentence Google produced to teach me about the word: “Sunshine filtered through the interstices of the arching trees.”
That’s what makes branches so attractive, isn’t it? Not the branches themselves, but the spaces between.
That thought led me to consider the presence of synapses in the brain. Why is it there is a tiny space across which neurotransmitters travel, carrying our thoughts from conception to connection? Perhaps there is something special–something essential even–about having space. It seems our brains depend on space to function effectively.
This blog is my way of claiming space–my way of ensuring space intervenes it’s way into my writing life.
Ten years ago I started blogging. I had no idea at the time what gifts blogging would bring to my life. Through blogging I met some of the most inspiring women. I am blessed that some have since grown to become face to face friends. These friendships have wrapped me in comfort and support, nudged me into growth, and shown me who I want to become.
In the past few years, I stopped blogging. I started believing my life had no space for writing without a professional purpose.
I was wrong. Just because you don’t acknowledge them doesn’t mean the interstices don’t exist. And perhaps they exist because their presence is vital to our existence.