Thank you. This came at exactly the time I too am aware of my own fear of emptiness, and how I've been filling it with this - the internet. Last year I stepped away from it for several months. It wasn't easy, but into that 'emptiness' came the idea of a new book. In the creative arena, I believe that the completion - the ending - of a project actively needs the acceptance/experience of the emptiness. That the emptiness is a vital part of the creative cycle. Like ground left fallow can recover and become rich again. But oh, it's hard... I wish you all happiness in your new house, and that it will in time become a true home.
I had a friend who became a farmer a couple of years back. One of the hardest things for him to learn was to leave parts of his fields fallow. Every year, he would be tempted by "productivity," and feel like he was losing out. But over time, he realized without that rotation, his field would become bare and unproductive. Rest was truly essential. Such an insightful addition, Susie, thank you for sharing and opening up the space!
Alex, this is such a well crafted essay. So much can be said about emptiness, and you gave us excellent examples of what that might look like in a spiritual, physical, and emotional sense.
I think about emptiness often, for a number of reasons. But one of them is that I don't like any kind of clutter. I can't breathe deeply or ease into anything - or be fully present - when I'm constantly bombarded with stuff or things to do.
And that's tough, given the fact that I'm raising five kids. My husband Ben does a lot and we share our caregiving role, but still. It's a lot, even for two people.
Silence is a sort of embrace for me. I feel open and ready to receive whatever comes my way when I am given the space that silence offers. Seldom do I feel restless in solitude like many people (sadly) seem to when they reach for their devices. In solitude I feel satisfied, content. I am coming home to myself and that means I am more energized to be receptive to the ways my particular gifts may be called into being today.
Mmmm, that connection between emptiness, clutter, and silence is so interesting. Thank you for sharing all of that!
I'm so glad you find such embrace and comfort in silence and solitude. I do most of the time, but once in a while, I too can find it a bit uncomfortable. That is usually a sign for me that something is a bit off and I need to recenter myself. Do you ever find it to be a signal? Or is silence and solitude always a consistent, restful place for you?
I get restless in silence sometimes, too, Alex. It’s definitely a signal for me to pay attention to why that is. Usually, silence is a welcome reprieve in this otherwise noisy and chaotic home environment with five crazy kiddos. :) But sometimes I do feel that agitation rising in me, so I stop and listen to it. Being highly sensitive makes me more aware, I think, of the beginning of such destabilization.
Thanks! Yes, but the end of the day, I am filled up. Some days I work only in the afternoons and that is better. My assistant is like a palate cleanser for me between patients, to reset myself and so that I can start from neutrality for the next one.
Yes. This especially "Because in a world obsessed with more, the most revolutionary act might be leaving room for less."
The word 'more' seems to have become synonymous with 'better'. And it's so not true. Because if we dare to leave space, create emptiness, then less actually transforms into what we were looking for when we wanted more.
YES! Dare to leave space. I think, as I've had to pick up different skills along the way in life, a constant skill across all is leaving space. White space in design. Leaving room to breath in music. Etc. It matters! More is not better. Less really is.
Loving the snippets of conversations we are having here Alexander! We could have a good 'chinwag' (as the British say), over a coffee, if we were in the same country!
This is so well written. After my daughter's death there was this yawning great big hole of emptiness at my core. And there was nothing to fill it. So, I didn't try. I sat with it, allowing it to breath. Grief rattled around in it and instead of trying to suppress, run away or stuff the grief down, I gave it space to breath. After three months I was ready to start writing again. Emptiness is not to be feared, it gives space for growth.
I think this really sits right at the point I'm making in this essay. Emptiness is something that can give us the space to learn and grow. It is the essence of space.
I'm so glad you came back to writing. I found myself writing again, too, after my year last year. It's a wonderful integrative exercise. But it takes time before we are ready. I'm so glad you gave yourself space.
Thank you, Alex, may I call you Alex? Or do you prefer Alexander?
I am in awe of the quality of writing here on Substack. Yours is right up there. The vulnerability you demonstrate along with your life-wisdom, it makes your writing special.
The wackier the better! Wish I could remember where I had written that, will have to go and find out! And I am now following you, my fellow wacky woman :)
It's a joy when something on the outside mirrors the process going on the inside and there is an immediate resonance and connection. For me it's a realisation that the universe is with us all the way. ✨️ 😉
Emptiness breathes, silence pulses. The desire to fill every available inch with stuff makes a space become stifling. To be in an empty space requires us to to become aware of the things we drown out with noise, with busyness, with stuff. I love the idea of letting the new space dictate how you occupy it. I wish you a happy homecoming. Love , Virg
Yes, it is another way of just letting the universe share with you the next steps. I still haven’t filled the space. Haha! But I know that it will be filled, eventually. 🩵
"How the room seemed to exhale after a year of holding its breath."
When I was a high school teacher, and even today in the zoom classes I teach, I always looked for the quiet moments. I learned that when I left space for the student to think, and I leaned into the uncomfortable silence, something magickal always came after. It's always true. and, I had to train myself to exhale, and exhale again, like you describe here- as if the room was holding its breath...so that I could give space for someone else to finally feel safe enough to offer a single flower of thought to bring a new fragrance to the space.
I also have always said that when a class is amazing, no one wants to leave the space. I've had to tell my students literally "class is over, you can leave now" and they still don't leave. I ask if they have any more questions and no one speaks. Their questions were answered. And yet they don't want to leave. They linger in the silence.
I love when that kind of learning through the emptiness happens.
Thank you for sharing. When I was in my first coach training, that was the first lesson - and also the hardest lesson to learn. Silence was uncomfortable in conversation... at least at first. But then, once the magic is experienced, you can't wait for it to happen. It is where processing and integration happened, and where the real insights emerged.
Having been in the spaces you create, and the silences where people linger, I would also add for you in particular, it is because you create safety too. :) And that cannot be understated in importance.
Alex, this is a wonderful essay on such an important topic. Somewhere along the line, society has put a negative connotation on emptiness; your example of people checking their phones constantly is well-taken. Many people are uncomfortable with emptiness and even silence.
I'm an introvert who craves silence and emptiness in this noise-laden, fill-everything-up world. On weekends, I try to leave at least one day completely free to have to myself. On weekends where I have obligations on both days, I am not a happy camper.
And having emptiness of mind certainly helps us eventually tap into creativity. Somehow, the mind is working behind the scenes during a break of emptiness.
"On weekends where I have obligations on both days, I am not a happy camper."
If I am stuck doing things on both days, I'm usually pretty upset. Haha! I will if I have to, but it usually upsets the balance of the rest of the week :)
You point out something of a paradox - somehow the mind is working. It is always working. The same with our body too. During rest and relaxation, during sleep, our most restorative action, our body and mind are sometimes in highly active states. It is just a very different type of activity.
Perhaps that is a part of what I am getting at too - emptiness isn't empty at all, it is just filled with something else, something that we might not be able to see.
Thank you. This came at exactly the time I too am aware of my own fear of emptiness, and how I've been filling it with this - the internet. Last year I stepped away from it for several months. It wasn't easy, but into that 'emptiness' came the idea of a new book. In the creative arena, I believe that the completion - the ending - of a project actively needs the acceptance/experience of the emptiness. That the emptiness is a vital part of the creative cycle. Like ground left fallow can recover and become rich again. But oh, it's hard... I wish you all happiness in your new house, and that it will in time become a true home.
I had a friend who became a farmer a couple of years back. One of the hardest things for him to learn was to leave parts of his fields fallow. Every year, he would be tempted by "productivity," and feel like he was losing out. But over time, he realized without that rotation, his field would become bare and unproductive. Rest was truly essential. Such an insightful addition, Susie, thank you for sharing and opening up the space!
Alex, this is such a well crafted essay. So much can be said about emptiness, and you gave us excellent examples of what that might look like in a spiritual, physical, and emotional sense.
I think about emptiness often, for a number of reasons. But one of them is that I don't like any kind of clutter. I can't breathe deeply or ease into anything - or be fully present - when I'm constantly bombarded with stuff or things to do.
And that's tough, given the fact that I'm raising five kids. My husband Ben does a lot and we share our caregiving role, but still. It's a lot, even for two people.
Silence is a sort of embrace for me. I feel open and ready to receive whatever comes my way when I am given the space that silence offers. Seldom do I feel restless in solitude like many people (sadly) seem to when they reach for their devices. In solitude I feel satisfied, content. I am coming home to myself and that means I am more energized to be receptive to the ways my particular gifts may be called into being today.
Mmmm, that connection between emptiness, clutter, and silence is so interesting. Thank you for sharing all of that!
I'm so glad you find such embrace and comfort in silence and solitude. I do most of the time, but once in a while, I too can find it a bit uncomfortable. That is usually a sign for me that something is a bit off and I need to recenter myself. Do you ever find it to be a signal? Or is silence and solitude always a consistent, restful place for you?
I get restless in silence sometimes, too, Alex. It’s definitely a signal for me to pay attention to why that is. Usually, silence is a welcome reprieve in this otherwise noisy and chaotic home environment with five crazy kiddos. :) But sometimes I do feel that agitation rising in me, so I stop and listen to it. Being highly sensitive makes me more aware, I think, of the beginning of such destabilization.
I rarely turn the audio system in my car on. After a day of people's stories, I find silence is my balm.
I am never sorry when I leave space in a conversation.
Oh, I bet you need some respite after a day of people's stories! 🩵
Thanks! Yes, but the end of the day, I am filled up. Some days I work only in the afternoons and that is better. My assistant is like a palate cleanser for me between patients, to reset myself and so that I can start from neutrality for the next one.
Yes. This especially "Because in a world obsessed with more, the most revolutionary act might be leaving room for less."
The word 'more' seems to have become synonymous with 'better'. And it's so not true. Because if we dare to leave space, create emptiness, then less actually transforms into what we were looking for when we wanted more.
YES! Dare to leave space. I think, as I've had to pick up different skills along the way in life, a constant skill across all is leaving space. White space in design. Leaving room to breath in music. Etc. It matters! More is not better. Less really is.
Loving the snippets of conversations we are having here Alexander! We could have a good 'chinwag' (as the British say), over a coffee, if we were in the same country!
The peach bowl, empty.
Eager, hungry, grumpy, sad.
Still sits beauty-full.
...
Empty cages, cells,
lockups without prisoners.
Freedom, transcendence.
Beautiful and thoughtful. I really resonate with transcendence at the end. Thank you, Marisol 🩵
This is so well written. After my daughter's death there was this yawning great big hole of emptiness at my core. And there was nothing to fill it. So, I didn't try. I sat with it, allowing it to breath. Grief rattled around in it and instead of trying to suppress, run away or stuff the grief down, I gave it space to breath. After three months I was ready to start writing again. Emptiness is not to be feared, it gives space for growth.
Such a beautiful share, Nancy.
I think this really sits right at the point I'm making in this essay. Emptiness is something that can give us the space to learn and grow. It is the essence of space.
I'm so glad you came back to writing. I found myself writing again, too, after my year last year. It's a wonderful integrative exercise. But it takes time before we are ready. I'm so glad you gave yourself space.
Thank you, Alex, may I call you Alex? Or do you prefer Alexander?
I am in awe of the quality of writing here on Substack. Yours is right up there. The vulnerability you demonstrate along with your life-wisdom, it makes your writing special.
That's beautiful Nancy. I recognise I behaved similarly after my husband's death. It took a bit longer to start writing again, but it did come.
Jane, I may just have to follow you. You got me at aging wackily and well. Is there any other way to age? 😂
Thank you so much!
The wackier the better! Wish I could remember where I had written that, will have to go and find out! And I am now following you, my fellow wacky woman :)
I'm glad you both could find each other! 🩵
😊
It is right there when I clicked on your name I was greeted with this:
“Jane Duncan Rogers
@janeduncanrogers
Embracing Ageing
+6 more
Award-winning writer and coach, helping older people age wackily and well, with gratitude, grace and a dollop of grit
https://substack.com/@janeduncanrogers/subscribers?”
It's a joy when something on the outside mirrors the process going on the inside and there is an immediate resonance and connection. For me it's a realisation that the universe is with us all the way. ✨️ 😉
That is such a beautiful way to put it, Jules. I love that! The universe is with us all the way. 🩵
Don’t be buying more tables 😉
Haha, oh I did. But it is BEAUTIFUL!
You made me chuckle this morning….you never need to justify it by its beauty haha… ( I liked the other ones)!!
Emptiness breathes, silence pulses. The desire to fill every available inch with stuff makes a space become stifling. To be in an empty space requires us to to become aware of the things we drown out with noise, with busyness, with stuff. I love the idea of letting the new space dictate how you occupy it. I wish you a happy homecoming. Love , Virg
Yes, it is another way of just letting the universe share with you the next steps. I still haven’t filled the space. Haha! But I know that it will be filled, eventually. 🩵
"How the room seemed to exhale after a year of holding its breath."
When I was a high school teacher, and even today in the zoom classes I teach, I always looked for the quiet moments. I learned that when I left space for the student to think, and I leaned into the uncomfortable silence, something magickal always came after. It's always true. and, I had to train myself to exhale, and exhale again, like you describe here- as if the room was holding its breath...so that I could give space for someone else to finally feel safe enough to offer a single flower of thought to bring a new fragrance to the space.
I also have always said that when a class is amazing, no one wants to leave the space. I've had to tell my students literally "class is over, you can leave now" and they still don't leave. I ask if they have any more questions and no one speaks. Their questions were answered. And yet they don't want to leave. They linger in the silence.
I love when that kind of learning through the emptiness happens.
Thank you for sharing. When I was in my first coach training, that was the first lesson - and also the hardest lesson to learn. Silence was uncomfortable in conversation... at least at first. But then, once the magic is experienced, you can't wait for it to happen. It is where processing and integration happened, and where the real insights emerged.
Having been in the spaces you create, and the silences where people linger, I would also add for you in particular, it is because you create safety too. :) And that cannot be understated in importance.
Alex, this is a wonderful essay on such an important topic. Somewhere along the line, society has put a negative connotation on emptiness; your example of people checking their phones constantly is well-taken. Many people are uncomfortable with emptiness and even silence.
I'm an introvert who craves silence and emptiness in this noise-laden, fill-everything-up world. On weekends, I try to leave at least one day completely free to have to myself. On weekends where I have obligations on both days, I am not a happy camper.
And having emptiness of mind certainly helps us eventually tap into creativity. Somehow, the mind is working behind the scenes during a break of emptiness.
Beth, this line resonated so deeply with me:
"On weekends where I have obligations on both days, I am not a happy camper."
If I am stuck doing things on both days, I'm usually pretty upset. Haha! I will if I have to, but it usually upsets the balance of the rest of the week :)
You point out something of a paradox - somehow the mind is working. It is always working. The same with our body too. During rest and relaxation, during sleep, our most restorative action, our body and mind are sometimes in highly active states. It is just a very different type of activity.
Perhaps that is a part of what I am getting at too - emptiness isn't empty at all, it is just filled with something else, something that we might not be able to see.