Empty

2014 was a year of spectacular heartache, unbearable suffering, and more joy than my soul could reasonably hold. In other words, it was a year like many others, with equal shares of happiness and sorrow. I hurt myself a little more in 2014 … small self-inflicted injuries caused by lack of attention to what I was doing, where I was going, and why I was working in the dark with inadequate tools.

Got a couple of bashes on the head, a gash on the knee, an arrow to the heart…but I survived to learn a few things. Not every bit of suffering comes with a lesson learned. Some things remain a mystery despite my delving deeply into a search for meaning. I’m beginning to wonder if this need we humans have for meaning is meaningless. Maybe some stuff doesn’t have a meaning or a lesson or a gift. Maybe shit just happens. Wheels spin, worlds turn, people live, stars die.

Today I dismantled the holiday and tucked it away for another year. I washed floors and shined mirrors. And I felt empty. Empty in a good way. Cleaned out. Done in. Over it. Ready to begin again. And this year, I plan to be more mindful of the steps I take and to pay attention to when I ought to apply the brakes. Not to get all Buddhist, but I feel like there is no center to this “I”. There is no unified personality. She is me but that includes many things, some of them puzzles never to be solved, swirls of ideas and mistakes made and digits counted and words shaped.

Those words, these words, are the rope I lay down daily to pull this “me” thing, this empty inside someone, along. Eventually, the words will fill me up again. And may 2015 be a year of peace and equanimity. I’m due. And I’m betting you are, too.