Mental health, creating space, and embracing the power of nothingness

Lessons from the Japanese concept of Mā

Can you relate to any of these?

“Too many tabs” open in your brain at the same time, aka too much on your mind

Constant checking / posting on too many apps, and struggling to keep up

Feeling overwhelmed by people, situations, and/or your own thoughts about them

I can. We live in a world that sometimes hurts my brain. There’s too much going on, and I shut down to protect myself. It’s taken me 50 years to take the replenishing power of emptiness really seriously. Not for an Insta-story but as a lifestyle choice. And, a confessed Nipponophile, this lifestyle is inspired by the Japanese concept of Mā (間), meaning “empty space and/or time.”

What is Mā?

According to Japanese linguistic scholars, Mā is equivalent to the Sanskrit words shūnya and shūnyatā, meaning “zero or nothing” and “nothingness”, respectively. It’s an omnipresent metaphor for the materialisation of potential events, representing the suspended time and space that connects objects, people and actions. There is Mā in the fluidity of the real world because situations are subject to continuous unpredictability and rapid change. And there is Mā in the silence that fills the space between an ending and a new beginning.

Mā is a phenomenon which cannot be well understood by separating object and subject because it is the empty time–space that produces an event and its rhythms. Indeed, rhythm is not only found in sounds but in the space between sounds. Likewise, there is Mā in the transition from day to night and in the change from one season to the next. There is Mā in the movement of the sun, moon and stars, the tides and waves of the sea, the change in the direction of the wind, the growth of fruits and vegetables, the rhythm in colours, lines and patterns, and in the rhythms of the body. Think of the heartbeat and the breath, which imply not so much of a repetition of the same but a return of the similar in a renewed form. Rhythm is thus a way of binding a future event in time, introducing it by creating the present in the process of “having been.”

“Rhythm provokes an expectation, arouses a yearning. If it is interrupted, we feel a shock. Something has been broken. If it continues, we expect something that we cannot identify precisely. It puts us in an attitude of waiting.”

Octavio Paz, The bow and the lyre

Mā beautifully encapsulates the power of emptiness, the silent pause between actions, and the space between objects. This concept might seem counterintuitive to many in the West because our culture often encourages us to fill every minute of our day with activity, every corner of our homes with objects. We fear the void and rush to fill it. That’s particularly true if you’re active on any social media platform. Even with my notifications off and my phone on silent (as it is typically 99% of the time), I got overwhelmed by social media this week because I felt the need to post, even though I didn’t have anything too interesting to say and was busy anyway. That completely made-up need to fill space made me feel aggy and stopped me from writing here, although it was good in a way because I observed my mind leading in that direction, and then I thought: “Oh! I must write that post on Mā I’ve been wanting to put together for a while.” And here I am!

Mā as a creation pathway. Brazilian performance artist Cristina Elias is seen here applying Mā as a creation pathway during one of her art installations: “Music Box” at Studio Stefania Miscetti in Rome (2018)

I could write about Mā for hours, but I’ll just drop this here. It is often translated as "gap", "pause", or "the space between two structural parts", but the reason I absolutely love Mā is that it is also about celebrating the presence of absence, honouring the beauty and potential that lies within empty space. It is in this void that possibilities arise, where creativity blossoms and growth can take place 🌸

Creating space for personal growth

Mā shares deep parallels with the spiritual journey towards mental health and wellbeing. In mental health care, we're often taught to confront and examine our pain, trauma, and anxiety. Though undeniably real and pressing, these challenges can sometimes take up so much of our mental and emotional space that there is no room left for growth and healing. Here, Mā becomes a metaphor for creating a new, healing space in our minds and hearts, a place where we can breathe, rest, and nurture our wellbeing. It's about learning to pause, to sit with our thoughts and feelings, and to understand them without rushing to fill the void they might leave behind. It's about learning to live with the uncomfortable parts of ourselves, of our existence, and just as importantly, it's about making room for the joy, love, and fulfilment that arise from that empty, non-judgemental space where we can simply be.

I see the art of creating space within ourselves as a necessary step for personal growth. Here, the teachings of Mā intersect beautifully with the philosophy of wabi-sabi, the Japanese aesthetic of finding beauty in imperfection, transience, and simplicity. Wabi-sabi encourages us to embrace the incomplete, the transient, and the modest in much the same way that Mā teaches us to value the space between things, thoughts, and situations. It tells us that there's beauty in simplicity, accepting our flaws and imperfections, and recognising that everything is constantly evolving and changing.

When dealing with our own mental health issues, embracing wabi-sabi means accepting our imperfections, acknowledging our emotional scars, and learning to find beauty and strength in our unique human experience. It's about creating a space within ourselves that is open to accepting things as they are without the constant need to change or hide our true selves.

Good ol’ Nietzsche got it in one. Image credit: The Philosoph on Instagram.

By embracing Mā and wabi-sabi, we make space for a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the world. We make room for healing, growth, and transformation. We allow ourselves to breathe, to rest, to just be. In this space, in this pause, we find the courage to face our shadows, the strength to embrace our imperfections, and the wisdom to realise that in the hot mess of our humanness and our sometimes f%ck3d-up beautiful existence, we are enough.

Embracing Mā and wabi-sabi isn’t a quick fix for mental health struggles. Still, just as these metaphors have triggered a profound shift in my own perspective, I believe that they provide a powerful philosophical compass that can guide you to navigate your own personal journey of healing and self-discovery. They’re a humble reminder that in between the chaos and noise, in the quiet moments of solitude and reflection, we can find a deep well of resilience and inner peace. And it all starts with the courage to embrace the void, pause, and create space.

Doing the Mā thing in everyday life

Mā runs on a Zen operating system that is not goal-oriented. It's about being present in the moment rather than trying to attain something, such as relaxation or clear mind. That’s what makes it different from meditation or “mindfulness.” Instead of focusing on a specific object, mantra, or the breath, Zen practitioners often aim to maintain an open awareness of everything happening around them and within them without attaching or reacting to thoughts, emotions, or perceptions. I provided a script for a walking meditation based on the principles of Mā and open awareness in my previous post, “If you don’t love yourself.” If you read it and didn’t know where I was going with the meditation bit, now you know. Welcome to my brain! And if you didn’t read it, I recommend you do it because it’s packed with good stuff and isn’t “just about psychedelics.” I mean, psychedelics are cool, but ultimately we need to do the work ourselves when it comes to personal growth, and Mā and wabi-sabi are tools that allow you to experience the same kind of benefits but without the need to trip and see colours 😂

We ARE nature

For me, one of the most effective ways to put Mā into practice is to go for a walk in nature, ideally without music, a podcast to listen to, and with your phone on silent. This is you time, so please honour it.

We tend to think of walking in nature as a means to unplug, to disconnect, but what about if we thought about time in nature as a time to commune with it, to leave our anthropocentric worldview behind, and acknowledge that not everything revolves around us humans and that we are just one tiny piece in the puzzle in the universe that we’re entangled with. Rivers, mountains, trees, and all the living creatures you’ll encounter in your walk have intrinsic value. Mā is rooted in Zen Buddhism, which teaches the interconnectedness of all things, suggesting that the self and the environment are not separate but part of the same reality. When you open your mind to that expanded awareness, you get a glimpse of insight into transcendental truth beyond conceptual and logical thought, often using nature as a focus. I often feel as if I am moving with the rhythm of the landscape I am walking in, with the wind, the leaves and the birdsong. That attunement, that feeling of being part of something bigger, is healing. It is free of charge, and it’s right there, on tap, at your fingertips.

Going for a walk in nature with a Mā mindset isn’t just a way to connect with it but a way to be it. Feeling part of something greater without trying to make sense of it and accepting it is a fabulous way to do Mā. And while you’re in the process of "emptying the mind", these parts of your brain are doing a lot of heavy lifting:

The prefrontal cortex: Even when trying to practise “open awareness” rather than mindfulness, the prefrontal cortex continues to play a role in maintaining focus and self-control, regulating attention away from specific thoughts and towards a state of openness and receptivity.

The anterior cingulate cortex (ACC): The ACC works in tandem with the prefrontal cortex to regulate attention, helping to redirect focus when the mind wanders and guide it back towards a state of "emptiness."

The Default Mode Network (DMN): While the DMN is typically active during mind-wandering, research suggests that experienced meditators can exhibit decreased DMN activity even when their minds are not focused on a specific object, suggesting they may be better at preventing their minds from getting caught up in thoughts. It’s a skill anyone can develop with practice, and once you do, it feels beautiful.

The amygdala: Your amygdala’s response might become dampened, reducing emotional reactivity and promoting a calm, peaceful state. This is good because the amygdala is the “drama queen” of the limbic system, so you’re literally unsubscribing from her drama.

My amygdala Monday to Friday

You’ll also be engaging the following neurotransmitters:

Serotonin: Expect serotonin levels to increase after a sound “mind emptying Mā sesh”, promoting a sense of wellbeing and helping to regulate mood during and after your meditation.

Dopamine might also increase, providing a sense of reward or satisfaction from the meditative practice. This is great for neurodivergent folks like me, and one of the reasons I am hooked on Mā.

GABA: Embracing open awareness stimulates the production of GABA, a neurotransmitter that helps to control fear and anxiety when neurons become overexcited. Again, a game changer for me and for anyone with a nervous system that defaults to hyperarousal mode.

Endorphins: Endorphins can also be released, especially when combining Mā with movement in a walk, which can enhance happiness and reduce pain or stress.

Emptying your life of stuff you no longer need

The awareness and practice of Mā have been life-changing for me, but it is important to note that the goal of "emptying the mind" is not necessarily about suppressing or avoiding all thoughts. Instead, it is about changing our relationship to those thoughts, learning not to get caught up in them or react to them impulsively, i.e. creating space between the thought and the reaction to that thought, which is a prime example of Mā. Another tremendous practical suggestion that has worked for me is to reduce my exposure to people and situations that trigger those thoughts. The critical triggering problem for me is social media, which can sadly be a very toxic space. After a 15-month break, I found myself getting an uncomfortable gut feeling triggered by some people’s narratives. So now, if I see someone on my feed being angry, boring or irritating, I unfollow them. I used to feel bad, but then I thought: “Would I sit down and eat a meal made with ingredients that don’t agree with me?” The answer is no. Why would I do that to myself?” So why should I be fed a feed full of stuff that:

1. adds nothing to my life just because I met this person years ago, and I thought it was a good idea to follow them at the time?” and/or

2. sends my nervous system into overdrive?

Think about it for a moment, and it just doesn’t make sense, does it? Mā is about creating space, but it’s also about self-respect. And in 2023, limiting the amount of noise that enters your brain and curating the media you consume is one of the biggest acts of self-love you can engage in.

We’re all unique in how we experience the world around us, so I’d love to hear about your adventures with Mā. Drop a comment below, and feel free to share your thoughts by restacking this post on Notes, or by starting a thread in Chat.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead ❤️🌸

Cover art by the incredible Greta Gre 🙏🏽