Your mental third space, explained with a guinea pig, bamboo mats, and bees in my mind
Envisioning a mental space makes meditation and mindfulness easier.
BEES
A beehive has taken residence in my mind this week, and me oh my. There are so many bees. They’re doing their little dances and bumping into one another and not a single one has collected any nectar.
I guess a better metaphor would’ve been politicians.
Anyway. I’m looking down the barrel of a life transition and have not had a break from endless, pointless thoughts. My nights have morphed into three hours of restlessness, and I’m about ready to call an exterminator or a revolutionary to put this chaos to rest.
In most cases, I’d make tea or read to switch gears before tending to my bees. That way, I have some separation from my mind, and something to ground me. But this time, if I make tea, I’m pacing like those damn dancing bees. You get the picture.
The only way for me to get out of my thoughts is to get out.
A change of space
If you’re unfamiliar with third spaces, writer Miles Howard recently wrote a great piece on the subject, the lack of these places, and the art of “stealing” a third space:
New Yorkers will utilize a stoop, the edge of some bodega, or the interior of a hotel lobby for hanging out and catching up. In a city that’s as dense and expensive as NYC, you have to be bolder about occupying available space wherever you’re able. Yes, you might be asked to move along at some point, if you’re stealing a third space inside or around a business.
Most of us don’t actually have third spaces in our lives, though. These used to be clubs or places of community. The closest places we have now are libraries or cafes, and unless you’re ready to launch a club, you’re stuck.
But even if I had a third space, I wouldn’t have gone. These bees were swarming me! How am I supposed to get in my car and get seated in a library when I’m being actively stung--and surprise! The bees came with!
The right third space could alleviate this, but those places just don’t exist in the U.S. But I have one more trick up my sleeve. Something that might not only calm the bees, but get them out of the hive.
A guinea pig, bamboo mats, and a waning will to live
When I was younger, I was taught a specific meditation practice. Instead of focusing on nothingness, imagine somewhere specific. It doesn’t have to be a real place. Just start by creating a blank space in your mind. You probably know where this is going.
Turn that blank space into your happy place.
At the time, I imagined my happy place as a prairie, a bamboo mat in a quaint clearing, and a collection of guinea pigs chewing on grass. From that point, when I was upset or overwhelmed, I could transport myself away to somewhere my problems couldn’t follow.
If the bees try to reach me here, they’ll find I’m too distracted watching the cutest animals on Earth chewing fresh alfalfa. That’s the magic of it. In order to really create this scene, I have to be completely in it. Bees? Gone.
Try it out. Take a place that bring you a sense of ease. Imagine it. Build it out in that mental blank space. Where are you? Is it easy to come back to this place? (That part is a must)
Now that you’re here, ask yourself. How can you make this place yours? What else can you bring in here that can bring you comfort? This is where the guinea pigs came in for me. I also brought in the midday sun—a necessity in the dead of winter.
Finally, how do you imagine yourself in this space? Are you laying down? Sitting? I’m lying on my bamboo mat, and sometimes I’ll lie down to take myself there.
Once you have those components, you’ve built out your happy place.
The mental third space
This guinea pig paradise isn’t a true third space. I can’t unwind with my friends there or engage in my hobbies. But I can separate myself from home and work, and that’s all I need. There are no bees, unless they’re of the fluffy, friendly, and totally not overwhelming type. There are no racing thoughts, because I’m too occupied creating this mental space to let them take hold. I am, at least for the moment, at peace.
The best part about this practice is leaving the space. Wherever I am, no matter how stressed I feel, I come back with a healthier perspective and a refreshed mind.
There are days where a simple walk will have the same effect, but most days, the bees follow. It’s not until I meet them where they are, and replace them with something better, can I avoid getting stung.