Last weekend I found myself with a lot of unplanned time. Friday night, Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning. Wide open, no plans, no kids, no responsibilities.
OK, I had a giant chore list but I chose to ignore it.
At first, emptiness felt bad. Friday night, no plans. Hmm. I should call someone. I SHOULD DO SOMETHING! I must fill this void. Nature hates a vacuum, according to Aristotle, and so it must be filled. This feeling of empty; is it sad? Am I lonely? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?
I waited out that storm, and took myself out for tapas at a local Spanish restaurant, walking distance from my house. The host bought me a negroni, with a lovely center slice of orange and a big brick of a cube. I looked around, enjoyed the bar, and tasted my food.
The emptiness wasn’t a problem. It let to a new experience and a free negroni.
The next afternoon, yeah, I ended up at another restaurant, dining alone again. I ordered items I never had before; polenta and broccoli rabe. Perfectly cooked, incredible texture, with some lemon oil and lemon sauce. Yum. A couple was arguing to my left, another was instagramming across the way and the rain was coming down outside. I was in my bubble, reading a fabulous book by a client.
I was luxuriating in my emptiness, that place that at first felt threatening and embarrassing. It led to new experiences. The empty was filling up with satisfaction, contentment, calm, and yes, true deep replenishment.
On Sunday I hit the trifecta; breakfast alone. Sadly this venue had turned into a mommy and me this morning, or more of a “drop your kids and run” kind of environment. The noisy families cleared out soon enough, and I was able to sit and look out the window, enjoying my griddled Haloumi and warm pita, a reliable classic.
A man sat next to me, and started watching something in his phone at an insanely high volume, so after ten minutes I asked him if he had headphones. “Oh my gosh, I had no idea the volume was on.” He turned it down and finished his meal. Not surprisingly, when he left, he took my raincoat with him (he did come back to return it).
That breakfast wasn’t new to me, but I was newly aware of the value of tuning in. So many people at the restaurant were tuned out; screaming kids placated with iphones, my dining “partner” was unaware squared.
I see so much avoidance of emptiness, a desire to fill and be filled. So many are using something, anything to fill the void. So much so that they become unaware of themselves and their environment.
When we brave it through that uncomfortable moment of nothingness, the void and the vacuum, we are inevitably rewarded with a recentering and replenishing. New experiences, awareness of life and of self.
Summer is here. Be sure to leave some emptiness in your schedule and see what the space allows.
With love,
Allison
