Emptiness is OK

On Saturday I spent 10 hours at my surf clubhouse, listening to a Buddhist monk share his take on overcoming anxiety.

We paused no less than six times for meditation; long, eight and ten minute meditations on topics that arose during his talk. We even meditated on death – I may die today…

I’m in. Hooked. Sorted.

When I combine

the Buddhist philosophy of not clutching at things

finding awareness through meditation

the deep body satisfaction of yoga

solo long distance runs

an lifelong commitment generally to personal development

I really can feel the absolute oneness and coming togetherness of everything.

Last Sunday night at the yoga launch party my daughters had henna painted on their hands whilst I listened to the yogis share the story about change and how the flamingo was a part of the spirit animal of the teacher.

If I had to describe the feel it was shoeless, honey brown long hair and tanned skin and shoulder to shoulder sweatiness. Organic and authentic.

By Saturday, I was sitting by the beach listening to the monk. I asked the female monk who sat alongside the teacher about her shoes – she had sneakers that perfectly matched her saffron and ochre robes. She explained how she got them at Target for $6 a pair. We laughed. It was a moment.

*

I’m falling further and further away from thinking of drinking and alcohol as if it is a main stage problem/issue in my life.

Now I have some space and I can see it getting smaller in the rear vision mirror as I power forward, I still have an unbending, mighty respect for alcohol and how completely and utterly devastating it is for me personally.

But as a signifier of my personal story – it is irrevocably a part of my past.

My future, I am seeing it more as a milestone – a turning point – a symptom of my overall life malaise and indifference and unwillingness to be accountable and take responsibility and implement action.

Drinking was too readily there for me to fill the void and especially once you add the fact that I have a genetic disposition to run it out completely, chase it beyond the limits of exhaustion, like any other addictive pastime you could mention.

Before, I used to fear the emptiness. the feeling of space and incompleteness that I felt when I was tired, or lonely or fearful.

Now, I am learning to embrace that emptiness and to not see it as a lack that needs filling – but instead embrace it as a glorious emptiness – a space to savor and luxuriate in and relish the empty simplicity of it.

Life doesn’t need overfilling and some buffet of never-endingness satiety to feel complete and whole any longer.

I’m at my happiest with that raw, burning hunger now.

Life actually does have some vast empty spaces that make it – well – feel like emptiness.

And I’m cool with emptiness. Are you?