The gift of emptiness

I have felt so empty recently -- and afraid, and, frankly, a little on edge.

The fear was spurred by the ongoing scrutiny, day by day, of someone whose interest puzzled me -- but was not, I am sure benign, like that of the vast majority of my readers.

But I have come to see, am coming to see, that it really doesn't matter -- that I was surrendering power over my life to someone else.

And then there was the ongoing sense of vertigo, the sense that even I was an unreliable partner. "I don't know if it's you I don't trust, because I damn sure don't trust myself" -- one of my favorite Springsteen lines.

But a few days ago, I began to feel the vise around my emotions begin to loosen a bit. I realized that, indeed, I had no power, had no influence, had no control -- that, to crib the Janis Joplin song I quoted on Twitter, I had nothing left to lose (however silly that sounds to my jaundiced middle-aged ears).

It's all very eastern -- and as a driven child of the west, I'm not comfortable living in what seems like a monastic paradox.

But as I began to realize that the only person I could hold accountable was myself, and that I often let myself down, I began to see little rays of sunshine. No guarantees. No promises. Perhaps not a lot of hope. But as I regain the opportunity to enjoy the little moments, I am realizing that maybe nothing left to lose (when it comes to the experiences of the past few months) isn't such a bad place to be.

One baby step at a time.

Tommorow -- what I can dare, and what I am not yet ready to attempt.