I was the last body that could possibly have squeezed onto the tube the other day. Under what other circumstances would people tolerate being herded together in such close, voiceless, physical proximity? On the pavements, a seething mass of bodies all intent on a particular destination but with no apparent etiquette governing which side on which to walk. Silent negotiation. Cars passing amicably on impossible narrow roads. Drivers courteously waving others ahead into the flow of traffic. Proximity demands courtesy – which may help to explain why, in New Zealand – we are often intolerant of the needs of others and resentful of their presence in ‘our’ space. I realise, shamefully, how profligate I am with space in Governors Bay. I spread out, through the house and over the section. I do not have to be compact, selective. I do not have to stand aside, wait, queue, negotiate…
It is useful to be reminded of the treasure of space and also of the tolerance and grace that lack of space can engender.
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