There was never enough room. At the table. In the den. On the piano bench. Or perhaps it was just that there was never enough noticing that I was even there in the room. We raised ourselves, the parental policy appearing to be hands-off, put-yourselves-to-bed, no-notice-is-good-notice. The mother of nine had been an only, smothered child, and may well have believed that paying little attention was the same as giving us “room”, which of course my dear Mama had none of for herself. In any case, while I was growing up, I felt both crowded and invisible.
So, as we do with what was scarce, I’ve sought to meet my needs for space and attention. To me, all the room in the world sounds like a space just about big enough! A giant room where I can choose my cozy candlelit corners, and, I can choose to move into the social light. Just saying it, all the room in the world, causes within me a sensation of expansion, a spreading of my being to take up that much space. It’s like a superpower or a magic spell. Say the phrase all the room in the world and the cape unfurls, the extension manifests. The words come true.
The power of words is one with which I have experience, deep and long. In this lifetime I have been a poet for over fifty years. Poetry has been a way of having all the room in the world. The immeasurable room of the imagination has more than met my need for space. And sharing my work publicly has, for decades, been a satisfying way to meet my need for the light of social belonging.
All the room in the world is a blessing I wish for you, for everyone. It’s a way of wishing May the Force be with You to all my sister and brother starbeings. For the Force is love, and when a starbeing expands her love into that enormous room, then the multiverse pulses, it sings the celestial harmony, and it gives to every living thing all the room in the world.