Margin- An Essential Space to Have & Cherish
Why making space for unhurried living isn’t optional; it’s where joy, creativity, and real love quietly grow.
There’s a small, sacred work that happens in the quiet places of our days — the hours nobody notices, the long, slow afternoons, the half-hour after dinner when the world softens and a chair becomes your fortress of solitude. I believe those hours should be defended like treasure. We call that defense margin: the gentle space between our load and our limit. When margin is gone, life becomes a string of urgent things, all demanding now. When margin returns, our lives begin to breathe again.
I’ve been reading and thinking about hurry — why we chase it, how it hollowed out days I once loved, and how, with intention, we can reclaim what’s been lost: attention, rest, creative delight, true connection. This isn’t a call to laziness. It’s an invitation to reframe busyness as a problem to solve, not a badge to wear.
Here are the truths I’d love for you to carry with you.
Hurry takes away the small things that become life
We tell ourselves we’re “busy” because that sounds noble and productive. But too much busy is not productivity; it’s fragmentation. When all of our time is claimed by tasks and screens, the small, ordinary moments — the ones that knit a soul together — vanish. We trade unhurried conversation for quick check-ins. We trade afternoons of play for lists we never finish. Over months and years, that trade impoverishes us: less joy, more stress, shallower relationships.
Margin is not wasted time — it’s the soil of delight
Pause for a moment and imagine a life with a little breathing room: time to notice the light on the kitchen table, to pick up a guitar, to lace up shoes and walk without purpose, to read a book just because it pleases you. Science and timeless wisdom both tell the same story: these pauses sharpen memory, prime creativity, lower stress, and feed emotional well-being. Hobbies aren’t indulgences — they’re medicine. Play is training for joy.
What margin gives you
Presence: You stop living in a blur and start living in scenes — real, textured, full of meaning.
Creativity: Quiet lets your mind wander and stitch ideas together. The best thoughts often arrive between tasks, not inside them.
Health & mood: Regular rest and leisure protect against burnout and lift mood. People who schedule time for joy report greater life satisfaction.
Deeper relationships: Unrushed conversations are the soil from which intimacy grows.
Simple, stubborn ways to build margin (try these tomorrow)
These aren’t grand vows to change everything overnight. They’re small defenses you can begin practicing immediately.
Block it on the calendar. Write “margin” or “free time” into your week like a real appointment. Protect it.
Say a disciplined “no.” Every yes is a trade. If it doesn’t align with what matters, let it go.
Phone pause. Delay reflexively answering notifications. Ten minutes of delay will often dissolve the compulsion to respond immediately.
Create sanctuary windows. Pick a daily small ritual — a walk, a cup of tea with no phone, fifteen minutes with a sketchbook — and honor it.
Schedule a hobby hour. Treat play as nonnegotiable. Learn a song, knit a stitch, build a model, plant a pot. Do it regularly.
Choose one margin experiment for a week. Try a tech-free morning, an extra hour of sleep, or an unplugged family dinner. See what changes.
Hobbies: the hidden engine of a flourishing life
Hobbies live in the margin and deserve our reverence. They are where we practice patience, build skills for their own sake, and discover small pleasures that don’t depend on validation. When we allow hobbies space to breathe, we’re not escaping life — we’re becoming more fully ourselves, which ironically makes us better at the things we must do.
A tiny plan you can try this week
Pick one margin window — 30 minutes each evening or one long morning on the weekend.
Choose one hobby or rest practice for that window. No multitasking. No scrolling.
Keep a small journal note: what changed? What did you feel afterward?
Do this for seven days. That’s all. Observe. The point isn’t perfection; it’s the possibility that lives beyond perfection — a calmer, more creative, more generous you.
We don’t have to be frantic to be faithful
Whether your faith is quiet or you call yourself secular, the practice is the same: create sacred pauses. Many traditions call it Sabbath. Others call it silence. I call it margin — practical, portable, and urgently needed. When we ruthlessly protect these pauses, we discover we can love better, rest better, and give better.
An invitation
If you’re hungry for a different rhythm, begin small and loving. Margin doesn’t demand big heroics — only tiny, stubborn acts of protection. Try a week. Tell me what you find. Tell someone at your table that tonight you’re turning phones off for the first course. Send me a note about one small joy that came back to you. I’ll cheer for it like it’s my own!
