The Void

Have you ever stared off into space? Lots of space out there, isn’t there.  Stars, planets, clouds and comets and dust. Lots and lots of cluttered space.

It’s quite comforting, seeing that we’re very small and there is something so impressive and big out there, just above us.

If you compare it to your head, a head filled with nonsense and trouble and things you’ve learned, what then?  How does your head feel, if you look inside instead of out. Does it feel heavy? Does it feel filled and busy?  If you’re like me, it may feel as busy as the space above. Shooting stars of fleeting thoughts, heavy planets of choices you’ve made long ago that are weighing on your mind. I feel it. And sometimes I don’t even realize that I’m feeling it, but I am. If I pay attention, if I really focus on it, I can feel the weight of each and every bit of knowledge and space dust bristling through my brain.

Now, have you ever done the opposite? Have you ever had the opportunity to stare off into nothingness?  Not nothingness like the vastness of space above, because that’s a cluttered void. Have you ever had the chance to stare off into a truly empty void. Have you ever stared off into true space?

I had the privilege of looking at a true void recently, a few weeks back. The feeling I got from doing that, it was instant. Weight lifted from my head and I physically felt my shoulders raise from the lifting of it.

At my job, a silly old job, but one that demands quite a lot of creative thinking to avoid obstacles, I found a void.

Here’s how:

During a normal day I am given half-an-hour to find lunch and eat it. On most days I end up eating at my desk as I work. These days this doesn’t sound like much of a new concept, I know, but that’s the way it was for me, anyway.  One day, there I was walking around the food court hunting after something to eat. I don’t remember what I got, a burger probably, but I do remember finding a seat. This was rare. Usually, in this food court every seat would be taken and, when vacated, swiftly filled with another bottom.

I found a seat for the first time in the months that I’d worked this job. I took the seat and decided that on that day I would take the time to myself, let myself unwind a bit from the day.  This decision was important for two reasons. The first, it gave me the chance to sit near the large window that took up an entire wall in the food court. The second, by deciding to pause my day, I opened myself up for what happened next. I’m not sure if this would have worked if I didn’t  open myself up first.

Back to that window, because it leads to me finding my void. This window is a massive construct of a hundred smaller windows that, on a normal day, would provide a view of the world outside. People could look though them and see the weather, the mountains and so much more if they really looked. When I sat in front of it, the window was black. It was night out, you see. I managed to sit down in front of the window with a meal maybe an hour after dusk.  Due to my hunger I barely register the window as merely another feature of the room; a feature just like the plants hanging in planters, the coffee shop and the tables and chairs.

After a few bites of food I reminded myself that I’d come to this spot to decompress and I slowed down. I set the burger down and looked around me. Not right away, but eventually, I found the window. At first I didn’t think much of it because I couldn’t see anything through the glass, not even the mountains in the dark. Then I recognized what I was seeing: Nothing. True and absolute nothing. The world was so dark and so distant through those windows it couldn’t be found. I had discovered a true void.

It was then and there that I started calling the window “The Void”. I didn’t realize the whole weight of my discovery for a few days, and after another visit to The Void. But that first time, when I looked into a true void, I felt everything leave my mind. The work that needed finishing, the people I needed to talk to and e-mail, even the uniform I wore and bore the emblem of vanished from my thoughts when I looked into The Void. I became so free and, though I didn’t understand completely, I felt the impact instantly.

I mentioned openness earlier. I said that it was important that I be open to experiencing the void because if I had been closed-off and full of worry about my day ahead or how I would manage all my daily tasks, I would have looked at that window and then looked away. There would be no experience involved and I would have forgotten the window just as easily as I’d found it. Some time before this experience I’d looked into Chakras. Through that research I found how important it was to take in the world around you. Through opening the first Chakra, also known as the Root Chakra, I recognized how important it was to ground yourself to the earth, to feel your bond with the world around you. I believe that it was through this understanding that I could feel this true void in front of me.  If I’d not looked into Chakras, I might not have been able to open myself, or unable to understand that I had opened myself.

That being said reader, I don’t mean to tell you that you won’t be able to feel a true void if you haven’t played with your Chakras. I also won’t pretend to be the only one who has ever felt a true void. But for those of you who haven’t, or want to better understand what you felt when you discovered a void and didn’t know what to make of it, I hope this will bring a little clarity.  If nothing else, maybe this will merely spark a bit of interest in you.

At first, I found the feeling addictive. I wanted more of The Void. But I restrained myself and, like with anything good in this world, I practiced moderation. I let that void lift me, give me weightlessness for the first time in so long, probably since I first started being weighed down by school work and emotional troubles of adolescence. Maybe even earlier. Then I let The Void go.

Maybe I’ll go back when it all gets to be too much again. This world isn’t all about looking at stars and airplanes and smiles and cars. Sometimes you need a good bit of nothing to dissolve into for a few seconds and recharge.

One thought on “The Void

  1. Pingback: The Void: Part 2 | Holding the universe together

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