Space, man, the stoner philosopher's favorite subject, cosmic infinity pondered via marijuana smoke. Man, we are simply like floating on a rock in space. Deep observation or evident fact presented with enchantment that weakens sobriety? Astrologers, nevertheless, speak just similarly. Seeing Earth from above radically alters one's point of view.
Viewing our globe as a weak blue marble hanging in vacuum, borders invisible from that height, conflicts tiny against astronomical scale they call the overview effect. Man give me space means back off, show respect for limits, quit clustering. Personal space differs by culture; Americans require space; Mediterranean societies stand closer. Space transforms into invisible bubbles around bodies, becoming a territory negotiation.
Trek says space is the last frontier. Written in stars or hubris projected onto nothing, humanity's future? Already claiming galaxies, we have hardly departed our cradle. Inner space is important as well; meditation looks for space between ideas; therapy develops a distance between stimuli and response. Mental space where option resides; wait before reaction. Space, man