The law of white spaces

I read this morning, in Jesus the Teacher Within, about the Law of White Spaces:

"A rabbi was approached by a group of his students who had been wrangling over the meaning of a difficult part of the Torah. He asked them to show him the page and then asked what they saw there. The words we are disputing about, they replied, the black marks on the page. Right, he said, well, the words contain half the meaning. The white spaces between the words are where the other half of the meaning is to be found."

The snow has returned this morning, bringing white space back into our lives, both visually and figuratively. Because we stay inside and watch the slow accumulation, we see not only the patterns of the snow on the land, but also the white spaces created by the light within, by the sky, and by the simulated snowflakes, dangling reminders of Christmas past.

And if, as I suspect, we'll not be venturing out, there'll be a white space created in our busy days and plans as well, a suspension of activity that invites us to ponder: just what is it, this page on which we journal of our schedules, meetings, thoughts and prayers. And where is it the meaning lies -- in those etched marks or in the life we live between the lines?