Wednesday, May 19, 2010

relentless emptiness

i’ve been here for some time now with time to think, time to reflect, time to gather my thoughts, time to... and i’ve got nothing. nada. zip. zilch. i’m empty. i am devoid of content.

sometimes there’s a break in the emptiness when something to the effect of this creeps in:

“hmmm, this relentless emptiness, i mean, i wonder… is it a good thing or a bad thing? because maybe there’s something wrong with me – like a I had a TIA or something, what with all this emptiness going on. ok, possible, or maybe it’s the start of one of those spontaneous amnesia things that people get in lame 70’s movies. ok, that just takes me back to a TIA or something. ok, hold on a minute, but maybe this just a really, really, really long stretch of “being in the moment” – a present-ness that is so, well, in the present, that no thoughts enter?”

and that triggers a little flurry of white noise, random bits and pieces, long-forgotten memories and only-recently-pushed-to-the-backburner memories, movie clips and sound bytes, and kitties and old dreams and wishes, and then it dies out and the moment passes back into relentless emptiness.

some days i get up the drive to think that maybe i really should try to think about my most recent travels so i might write something about it now. but i didn’t write about it when it was the present and now it’s the past, and well, frankly, meaningless to me in this moment. so i make my way out into my secret ocean and swim like i imagine a frog might, and then float on my back for a bit, and then paddle around in circles one direction and then the other, and then float some more.

but i’ll tell you something that does have meaning to me in the moment. the wetness. the wetness has lots of meaning to me in the moment. i am on a teeny tropical island not all that far from the equator. it is hot and it is wet. always. and while that is really quite lovely during the days, it can seriously get a bit old upon waking each morning upon a wet and clammy bed fitted with wet and clammy sheet and then trying to find the least musty, least wet and clammy bathing suit and sarong or shorts or skirt or something, anything, you have to then try (really, just go ahead and try) to slide over your wet and clammy body.

but them the sun – along with the steam of drying everything – starts rising a little higher and you find your way into the ocean and some voluntary wetness and the day brings what it will, which is usually nothing.

tevolving