Emptiness. Just the word alone has a ring of auspiciousness to it, does it not? Something inside us panics when we feel the vibrations of this word, and yet we all know what it feels like to move into a space of emptiness. Of not feeling attached to, connected to any one particular thing.
I find myself in this space of being. There are moments my mind tries to wrangle it into submission, wanting to be busy with something. Trying to think of ways to spend my time. In the life my husband and I have created together, I am left with a lot of free time at this stage in my life. Our youngest daughter will leave for college in just a few weeks, although we found our children home less frequently once they began to drive, so not having them in the house isn’t new. At least not entirely. What does feel new is being at this place where there isn’t going to be any need for mothering, and if I’m honest, I feel that part of my life has run its course. I’ll still be a mother and love and nurture these beautiful beings that came to be ‘ours’ in this life, but not on a daily basis. Neither they nor I want that any longer. In our own ways, we all desire to be free to choose the next steps of our lives.
I’ve also let go of my business as it no longer felt fueled by passion. If there’s anything I know about myself, it’s that passion must be present in whatever I commit to–and I’m still in the process of understanding just how that feels. When I sink into the emptiness, the vast spans of time that are now left uncluttered by doing – I find feelings of not being ‘anything.’ We all know these feelings – they come with needing to accomplish, to label, to prove, to DO something. Only – there’s nothing at this time in my life that is clearly calling to be done. What has called is a clearing of what no longer resonates.
It’s not a space we feel comfortable in – the emptiness. The lack of scheduling, of accomplishing, of being needed, of having our time encroached upon – thus proving our importance. And yet, even alongside the insecurities that arise in this dark space of nothingness, I find it’s just what I desire. I want more depth, more real, more passion and meaning. I want to know that when I give my time and energy it’s because it uplifts my soul, it stirs my juices and brings into being more of the beauty I am here to be. We all know the language by now, words like authentic, spiritual, healing, awakening. And while these words and energies have served us well, there’s no longer a pulsing frequency in them for me. There’s a new language waiting to be discovered. There’s something that wishes to be birthed, only it’s not yet come into matter. There is no form, only an understanding of its promise and presence. There are remembrances in my being that haven’t quite yet become identifiable – if they ever will.
It’s unnerving to simply witness the old feelings of not being enough arising for me in this space. And yet, as an observer rather than an active participant in those weighted beliefs, we don’t have to become attached to the emotions we’re used to feeling in that space. We can simply watch. Let ourselves feel whatever arises, but not become consumed by it. If there is to be a consummation in my being, I wish it to be one of passion, of feeling alive in every sense of the word. This time to me feels like sloughing off the layers of what no longer carries life.
I have no idea what comes next. And I have days full of free time in which to sink deeper into myself and whatever she might wish to bring forth. In spite of the discomfort that arises, there is a sense of the luxury afforded to me in doing so. For that I radiate gratitude.