The Space on the Page

While visiting Japan, I was surfing some television channels and I came upon an American baseball game. There are lots of Japanese baseball players in the U.S. major leagues now, and the Japanese are very proud of them, so they broadcast the U.S. games there. Instead of airing the games in their entirety, however, they replay recent broadcasts, edited down to the highlights. So the show jumps from the stolen base in the first inning to the home run in the fourth, to the manager's fight with the umpire in the sixth, to the Japanese player's hit in the eighth, and so on. All in all, a two-and-a-half-hour game is condensed to about 20 minutes.

While it was interesting to see all the cool plays, I found watching the compacted version far less enjoyable than viewing an entire baseball game. Somehow the innings where nothing happens make the action-packed innings more meaningful and exciting. There is something about contrast that accentuates experience.

The game of life is the same way. It is not supposed to be action packed and exciting every minute. The lulls and quiet spaces enhance the peaks and crescendos. The downs accentuate the ups, and the setbacks make the triumphs more rewarding. Hunger makes food taste better when you receive it, missing others helps you appreciate them when you see them next, and foreplay makes an orgasm worth waiting for. The system is pretty clever.

I learned a similar lesson when I submitted an ad to a graphic artist. He told me there were too many words on the page. "The space on the page is as important as the text and pictures," he explained. "It's all about balance."

The next time nothing seems to be happening or something you want does not show up immediately, do not fret. The big game is far more satisfying than the condensed version.


Alan Cohen
http://www.alancohen.com