Emptiness

Sleep in day. No school day. Slow day. Slow empty spaces have returned to my life. It feels good. I welcome the moments when I sit down on the couch and there is nothing I have to do. They are not forced moments. I haven’t had to plan and create emptiness. It just is. I can sit and talk of nothing with Jay. I can pick up a magazine. I can close my eyes. I can play with the dog. I can pray. I don’t need to be in a hurry. I don’t need to live such that every moment is full.

This morning, I watch the sway of a branch blown by a passing car and I remember another breeze I once observed. It was a very, 120 degree, hot day. I listened in on the conversation of a couple old men in Cyprus: “Did you feel that breeze?” “Yes.” That was it, enough: to sit by an old friend in the shade of a veranda during the heat of the day, to drink strong coffee, to play backgammon, and to be aware of a passing breeze. I dream that I could be happy with just that much as well. But I keep filling up my life. I keep finding things to add to my load. Then I have to drop something. Again and Again, I let go of things and I am surprised when emptiness returns. Ahhh, there goes that branch again.