“Space: the final frontier.”

How I looked forward to hearing the words William Shatner recited from Captain Kirk’s log to begin each episode of the original Star Trek TV series.

Watching recent NCAA basketball tournament games, I was reminded of the importance for players to “space” the floor. In my kitchen, I’m conscious of not letting ingredients fall into the space between the range and the fridge.

And, of course, every time I go to a store or to a park, I see signs about social distancing, instructing me to maintain space between myself and others.

Some signs put the six feet of separation guidelines into concrete terms, like instructing shoppers to maintain two cart lengths between themselves and others.

Space used to spark thoughts of adventure. Now the term, “space,”  seems to be all about safety.

Life during a pandemic has made it impossible not to think about space.

We’re told constantly that there needs to be space between people to reduce possible transmission of the COVID virus.

Most of us have experienced some sort of trade-off, taking on isolation and a feeling of disconnection and loneliness in exchange for a sense of increased safety from living in a contracted world.

Of course, I have to chart my own path; deciding to view exploration of my inner space as an adventure I’m presented with now.

I’m glad that I have been able to view some of the time I spend alone with myself as an adventure. I’m glad I enjoy my own company, that I can be engaged with my own thoughts.

I am glad I find worlds of entertainment in reading and writing and am able to listen to music even if the Internet goes down.

And I’m glad I have learned how to reach out when I need to see myself or my concerns through someone else’s eyes. Needing others is not a sign of weakness or insufficiency. I’ve received more than a few lessons on that this year.

I have been working with a web designer on refreshing my blog’s look and my presence in the world. Although I have a general notion of what I want, bouncing ideas off a friend has been so important to me.

When I set up a conversation, I request we zoom or Facetime. I want to feel as present as possible, regardless of the discussion’s purpose. I crave the feedback of facial expressions and the feeling of interaction.

I want my actions in the world to reflect my heart but also want some assurance that they are likely to have the desired effect. I cannot hope to accomplish this alone.

This presents a bit of a conundrum. My goals can be met, but my journey is ever-changing. I have to be adaptable.

More than ever, I can see how my alone time enhances what I hope to bring to my work and  relationships and how what I glean from my interactions with others gives me new ideas to think about.

Maybe the goal for many is to return to “normal,” to a life that was familiar before COVID, but I can’t say that’s where I’m at now.

I don’t want to return to where I was. I just want to get better at negotiating time spent in my inner world and time spent with others so that I can be my best self in all realms of my life.

Managing the right balance, navigating between different types of space, is fundamental to my sense of wellbeing.

These days, I’ve been thinking that the “final frontier” of space, is not a place but rather being able to navigate between inner and outer spaces and fill my life with the right amount of each.

Moving between inner space and social time is no small thing.