A Day of Rest

It amazes me how comfortable I can feel with family.  Surely there must be little pockets within us, each carved out by the people that we've known in our lives.  Some, over time, have a deeper space, some opened a space quite large very quickly.  What is the nature of these spaces that only a certain person can fill?  Keys and locks, fingerprints that become more and more defined.  Each with a unique shape, an individual texture, molded by time and impression.  Who is creating a space within me right now, carving out a new pocket of which I'm not even aware, because they currently fill it?  And then gone and then to breathe into it once again.  This act of inhale and exhale that connects one life and one place to another as we fill ourselves with one another, openings and closings, finding and losing and finding again, returning home and venturing out to make a new ones.