As of late, I have developed a rather peculiar habit. I will make coffee or a container full of ice water and sit at my computer for hours, literally for hours, and watch footage of cataclysmic events. If there is a video of tsunami thundering from the coastline and devastating a village, I've seen it. That horrific footage from 9/11 of people jumping to their death to escape the inferno in the twin towers? I've watched those, too. Over and over again.
I take no pleasure from this. There is no morbid satisfaction that derives from hearing the cries of families as their homes, town, and entire countryside is reduced to rubble in wild waters. Instead, it helps me understand the face of what we, as living things, are up against.
It helps me taste the void.
Somehow, deep down in my heart, I crave the nothingness. Even though it terrifies me.
The fact is that no one has the answers. No one. Many people pretend to, drawing elaborate constructs and architectures of the spirit and how "all of this" works. Most will tell you how you inherently aren't enough unless you follow their program for your development. The clever ones will tell you to feel it's truth for yourself, of course, they don't do that before leveraging your mindset with societal pressure, the law of reciprocation, and so on. Call me a skeptic, but I've never found a dogma I couldn't distrust.
There is one medication I've found, one drug, that helps me forget the malevolent immensity of space or the crushing weight of the passage time: my own bullshit. My personal delusions. The idea that if I'm loved enough, if I'm revered enough, if I matter enough, that I will somehow be able to save myself when the dark waters come for me, as they inevitably will.
So, I go to work, creating a "reality" that makes me feel significant, special, and in charge of things. i exercise, try to eat well, create things, connect with people, and try show love to those around me. It's all sincere and from my heart. But underneath it all, the void is waiting.
It's the same for all of us, isn't it? We seek love and significance in some funny ways as humans. The masculine dominant people out there do it through achievements of some sort: money or the understanding of some arcane concept. Some see physical fitness or their ability to attract members of the opposite sex as a path to significance. Many feminine sourced people I know seek recognition for their free spirit, physical expression (dance, style and appearance) and their lust for life. We all seek the security of knowing that we are valued by those around us for who we are inherently (feminine energy) and who we can become (masculine energy).
In that, I think, is where we find our real essence. We are very human beings, fraught will frailty and fear, hoping that we matter enough to be loved, and that we love enough to matter. None of us know the answer and we hope someone else does.
We are all significant and completely, utterly insignificant at the same time. This universe will not pause for a moment before crushing your life and potential if the situation is right. In that, we only have a choice as to what we do in the mean time.
For me, I choose creativity, passion, love, and connection. But you might choose something different, that's fine. Whatever helps you feel alive and loved. Because you are both and time is of the essence.
No one should have to face the meeting with the void alone, yet the cruel truth is that we all must. But, until that moment, I want to live wholeheartedly in what we have, dropping the cynicism, and learning to conquer this fear by singing, writing, talking, hugging, meditating, and kissing.
All I can hope to do is to smile as I look back, just before meeting the void with a full heart.