Margin… I like the sound of the word.
According to Merriam-Webster, one of it’s uses is: an area, state, or condition excluded from or existing outside the mainstream.
I understand this. And know people living there. Some by choice, some because of circumstances. I often gravitate to these margins, outside mainstream.
Another is: a spare amount or measure or degree allowed or given for contingencies or special situations. This seems wise.
According to Richard Swenson, in his book by the same name, Margin is the space between or load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. … the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.
It means freedom. And requires freedom. Freedom to stop when it’s time to stop. Freedom to go when it’s time to go.
It means a lingering conversation with an old friend, or a helping hand to a stranger.
Vacations, visiting loved ones, and spur of the moment road trips.
It means time to sit long by the fire, or at the dinner table, or in the deer blind.
Margin is rest when needed, space to spread out, and stopping off for a little ice cream.
It’s reading, thinking, planning, and writing.
Margin is doing all these things without sacrificing things more important, if there are things more important.
I’m beginning to realize how important margin is to have. In time, commitments, finances, and emotions.
Margin is also really, really hard to get. And hard to keep. I’ve got a lot of ground to make up here.
But I’m working on it. Because I’m tired. And I want to give my best.