empty
I've tried writing a bunch of things today, but after a few words I hit a wall. I've tried again and again to dig deeper within my mind, but each time I crash into a cement barrier, derailing all my trains of thought. Or maybe my mind isn't hitting a wall; instead, I could be at the edge of a cavernous synaptic gap that even my imagination cannot jump over. Whatever it is, it stops me in my tracks, leaving me wordless, my mind blank and empty.
Empty. It's such a funny word. How do you conceptualize something that isn't there? It's like a vacuum - I've never been able to wrap my mind around a bunch of space that has absolutely nothing in it. To me, everything is made out of something. But to have a place constructed out of nothing...? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Surprisingly, today and so many other days like it, I feel empty. Not because I am made of a vacuum and am filled with nothing, but because so many somethings are crammed within me that I am overwhelmed - I can no longer think of them all. When I do, there is a void, and I am unable to articulate or say anything other than filler words that conceal blank and confused sighs.
I wish I could shine truth's bright light within the vacuum of my mind and find the answers to myself in my darkest corners. Maybe that is what they mean by singing about having sunshine in their souls - it's an understanding of the self, a dividing of light from dark, truth from illusion, knowledge from wondering. It's no longer feeling empty, but instead, deciding to welcome conflicting thoughts and feelings into the light rather than pushing them away in an effort to protect them from the inner battles of the self.
I could try to fight that battle today. Or I could continue to pretend it doesn't exist, a war in a vacuum that can't exist because it is nothing. It's a numbing option, a decision to not decide, a temporary escape from the explosive beginnings of a silent revolution. But the opposite option is also tantalizing: why not overthrow the emptiness of self in outpouring of decisions? The thought makes me cringe - I already know the answer. It would be a drowning deluge through which I could never swim.
It's a day by day process, this ridding oneself of emptiness. And maybe that's why I hide. Feeling empty isn't so bad every now and again - it is better than drowning in a multitude of somethings. And who knows? Maybe someday I'll be ready to tackle all of those somethings. Maybe the light will come and I will finally understand. And maybe then I will be filled, myself no longer empty.
Empty. It's such a funny word. How do you conceptualize something that isn't there? It's like a vacuum - I've never been able to wrap my mind around a bunch of space that has absolutely nothing in it. To me, everything is made out of something. But to have a place constructed out of nothing...? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Surprisingly, today and so many other days like it, I feel empty. Not because I am made of a vacuum and am filled with nothing, but because so many somethings are crammed within me that I am overwhelmed - I can no longer think of them all. When I do, there is a void, and I am unable to articulate or say anything other than filler words that conceal blank and confused sighs.
I wish I could shine truth's bright light within the vacuum of my mind and find the answers to myself in my darkest corners. Maybe that is what they mean by singing about having sunshine in their souls - it's an understanding of the self, a dividing of light from dark, truth from illusion, knowledge from wondering. It's no longer feeling empty, but instead, deciding to welcome conflicting thoughts and feelings into the light rather than pushing them away in an effort to protect them from the inner battles of the self.
I could try to fight that battle today. Or I could continue to pretend it doesn't exist, a war in a vacuum that can't exist because it is nothing. It's a numbing option, a decision to not decide, a temporary escape from the explosive beginnings of a silent revolution. But the opposite option is also tantalizing: why not overthrow the emptiness of self in outpouring of decisions? The thought makes me cringe - I already know the answer. It would be a drowning deluge through which I could never swim.
It's a day by day process, this ridding oneself of emptiness. And maybe that's why I hide. Feeling empty isn't so bad every now and again - it is better than drowning in a multitude of somethings. And who knows? Maybe someday I'll be ready to tackle all of those somethings. Maybe the light will come and I will finally understand. And maybe then I will be filled, myself no longer empty.
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