And then, here's the answer: "The imperatives that extend a space of our own are vitalizing forces that do not have the form of law but of portentous events." Clouds heading North. Winds comming up. "The vital space is made into a private space whose directions are projected simply out of our own will or longing when it is understood as the space in which we find our powers come into their own, the space in which we find our vitality sustained and harbored, find our sensibility over its extension and depth awakened, the space in which our body finds its integral mobilization. It is true that when we find ourselves in our vital space, we move in the conviction that our eyes now see that for which they were made to see (...). But our flesh is but malleable clay taking on the forms of the common world until it comes to hold itself together to the force of obedience of what summons it." Clouds heading West. Winds getting worse, blowing from afar. "It is because the summons to the space of our destiny weighs on us that we find the force to vitalize a sensibility for things others do not see or hear or feel, that we find the force to produce artist fingers, distant vision, the militant vehemence that churns the wells of our emotions, and the reverence that is a reverence of the body and not only of words. It is because we expose ourselves, in our walkabout, to the portents and necessities that press upon us with the dawn of the day, to the visions that obsess the nights of our own desert, that we become someone on his or her own...." (A. Lingins, The Imperative).
