The importance of white space.

When I was working as an art director for an advertising agency, we talked a lot about white space (or negative space, as some refer to it). So much so that the copywriters used to make fun of us because of how obsessed we all were with protecting our white space; often times we’d ask them to cut down the copy so that the ads didn’t feel crammed and there was plenty of space for the ad to breathe. Oftentimes, the simpler ads, the ones with less “stuff” in them, were the most eye-catching and effective.

It’s normal for an amateur designer to want to fill up an ad with lots of design elements as a way to prove how creative they can be. Photo collages, or worse—a photo ghosted into the background—drop shadows, flourishes in the corners…One graphic designer that I supervised always wanted to add ALL the Photoshop features: feathered photos, multi-colored gradients, multiple graphics. His ads looked like an acid trip on paper. I’d spend a lot of time crossing out all the extra elements to be eliminated so the most important ones could “be the hero,” as the head of our department would say. The most important info got surrounded by white space so it would stand out. All the extras were just a distraction from the point of the ad, and they had to go.

It took me years to understand that this lesson was applicable in life as well. We innocently (and ignorantly) assume that the more we have—the more we fill our schedules, our fridges, our closets, our garages with—the more successful and put together we seem.

We cram our schedules with more things than could possibly get done because saying, “I’m just sooo busy,” makes us sound important.

We collect clothing items and accessories to crowd our closets because we feel that more is more—more options, sleeker designs, designer labels will…well, I'm not sure what.

We don’t want our homes to feel empty, so we add photos and art to every piece of real estate on our walls, fill up blank spots with side tables and shelves that need to be “styled,” requiring more things to create more vignettes. And all these things will somehow communicate that we have impeccable style. We say that adding layers adds interest. (Because what, we aren’t interesting enough??)

And so we find that we have no white space. There’s no more room. Our lives can’t breathe. And we may feel like we can’t, either.

Negative space is as important in life as it is in design, because it equals more margin, more breathing room. Negative space lends time to rest, time to think and process all the emotions and thoughts that get stuffed down further into our psyche, with to-dos and get-togethers heaped on top.

There’s a reason God commands that we take a Sabbath, one day out of our week to do nothing, a day filled with negative space. Why? Because that blank slate is restorative. It returns breath to our lungs and humanity to our existence. Negative space is anything but negative.

Each of us has more white space than we think. Every time we swerve into the faster lane of traffic or check our phone at the red light or answer emails in the waiting room or Netflix and chill before bed, we’re snuffing out negative space, that precious time to just be. And with every moment that gets filled with distraction, the things that are most important lose their elbow room. We fill up on chips and leave no room for the filet.

I’ve heard so many people say that COVID gave them the time to pause and re-evaluate their lives. A lot of people realized some things they needed to leave in 2020; others started new careers or traded large homes for more family time in smaller ones. Still other families made changes to live more simply, exchanging endless activities for more down time together.

What would it feel like, the next time you have an hour of free time, if you just savored it rather than giving it away to the next demand waiting in line? Look around and take in your surroundings slowly, or take some time to ponder three things you’re thankful for in that moment? What if, instead of saying yes to another activity your child asks you to sign them up for, if you opted for slow family dinners a couple of nights a week instead? What if you embraced an extra hour of sleep instead of another episode of Downton Abbey with a side of Talenti?

Oftentimes, we can become so busy that we lose sight of our values. Maintaining some margin allows us to name what’s most important to us in life. The reality is, if everything is important, then nothing is important. If everything is precious, then by default, nothing is precious. That which is sacred to us should be set apart, bordered by white space.

One thing that has helped me is to keep an actual, physical planner with me. (Kudos to you who can plan effectively with your digital iCals; those make my head spin!) And I schedule out my day in order of priority: first, prayer time and self-care (I have to put on my oxygen mask before I can save others); then, family time; then work tasks, meal planning, chores, etc. I make sure that I have plenty of transition time in between so I’m not rushing from one meeting to the next meal prep. I schedule in margin as another item on my to-do list, so that it doesn’t get crowded out. Sometimes I plan ahead what I will do in my free time so that I choose something restorative, but other times I just let those times unfold naturally.

The concept of white space creates more breathing room in our lives and forces us to name what is most important and let that be the hero. Everything else must take a supporting role or get cut from the script altogether.

What about you? How about keeping a minutes log of your week to track where your time goes. Then, assess and decide one small change you could make right away. Maybe you track your phone usage and find you spend 6+ hours a day with screen time. That’s 42 hours a week! Was that time restorative or wasteful? What could you choose to do instead?

What is the hero of your life? Take a few minutes to sit with that question as a writing prompt. Jot down three things that bring you the most joy and fulfillment. If money were no object, how would you spend your time? Who are the people in your life that build you up? What activity restores your soul? Use the answers to those questions as a jumping off point to decide what other things could be eliminated to create some more white space around what’s most important.

Cheers!

Court