I Am Not What People Expect
... Including myself.
It exists. And it is different, much different, than that alone place I find when meditating. The empty place is unrecognizable in that it is devoid of all ties to my otherwise everyday life. Meditation is a quieting of my mind... a deliberate time set aside to observe my thoughts, let them go, focus on my out breath, and on and on. The empty place arrives unannounced, triggered sometimes by a simple action performed thousands of times before - reaching for a favorite coffee cup, seeing a loved one's name when I receive a text...
The cup instantly feels strange, looks strange, and despite knowing intellectually it is a meaningful - even loved - piece... it no longer has any emotional attachment. It is a porcelain reminder something is deeply broken inside.
The loneliest place is when it involves loved ones and friends... when the dearest faces, most loving voices never reach the intended recipient. Instead I see looks of confusion, hurt.. and know I am hurting those I profess to love.
Sometimes it lasts minutes, sometimes an hour or two. Then it passes and I begin feeling emotions again - including sadness and guilt and anger and fear... all while I am trying to stay positive and ward off any chance the empty place may have of returning. Often my loved ones are still near me. Almost euphorically I reach for them, profess my love and hope the empty place remains dormant - at least until I am alone.
The empty place is not unlike what I believe an out-of-body experience to be except I remain in this hollow shell and simply feel how strange anything I touch feels, see how unfamiliar anything I see has become, experience the empty place in my stomach that was once filled with passion and emotion...
The empty place is a new and unwelcome passenger who, thus far, has refused to step from the shadows of the man I once was.
It exists. And it is different, much different, than that alone place I find when meditating. The empty place is unrecognizable in that it is devoid of all ties to my otherwise everyday life. Meditation is a quieting of my mind... a deliberate time set aside to observe my thoughts, let them go, focus on my out breath, and on and on. The empty place arrives unannounced, triggered sometimes by a simple action performed thousands of times before - reaching for a favorite coffee cup, seeing a loved one's name when I receive a text...
The cup instantly feels strange, looks strange, and despite knowing intellectually it is a meaningful - even loved - piece... it no longer has any emotional attachment. It is a porcelain reminder something is deeply broken inside.
The loneliest place is when it involves loved ones and friends... when the dearest faces, most loving voices never reach the intended recipient. Instead I see looks of confusion, hurt.. and know I am hurting those I profess to love.
Sometimes it lasts minutes, sometimes an hour or two. Then it passes and I begin feeling emotions again - including sadness and guilt and anger and fear... all while I am trying to stay positive and ward off any chance the empty place may have of returning. Often my loved ones are still near me. Almost euphorically I reach for them, profess my love and hope the empty place remains dormant - at least until I am alone.
The empty place is not unlike what I believe an out-of-body experience to be except I remain in this hollow shell and simply feel how strange anything I touch feels, see how unfamiliar anything I see has become, experience the empty place in my stomach that was once filled with passion and emotion...
The empty place is a new and unwelcome passenger who, thus far, has refused to step from the shadows of the man I once was.
