MONITORING THAT EMPTY SPACE

I am waiting for a cord of green maple to be delivered and while I do that, I am pondering an empty feeling that sometimes appears somewhere in my being. It is a vague feeling. Hard to describe it really. Of late, I have been noticing this feeling more and more. You know. It is the feeling that one seems to need to obliterate with activity or thinking. Or maybe I am the only human that has this feeling. I really can't say, except that I have learned that anything I think or feel is not exclusive to me. I may not know exactly how another person is exeriencing the same sensations, but I know that others are having them too.

Anyway, this empty feeling has always had the potential to show up in my life, but most of the time I am obsessed with covering it up or masking it and so never really notice it, and if it does begin to arise, I so quickly distract my Self from it that I have never before had a chance to become acquainted with it. My behaviour towards the empty feeling reminds me a little of a mother with an infant; at least how I was with my infants. I was so tuned in to them, that I knew when they were about to cry and quickly did whatever it took to avert the tears. My children rarely cried, except my daughter and that was because she was the first born and I took a few weeks to figure her out so that I could arrange things such that she didn't have an excuse to cry. I am the same with that empty feeling; so quick to respond that it doesn't get a chance to arise.

Now that I am aware that this empty feeling seems to be part of my existence, I am noticing it more frequently and allowing it to be while I experience it. I think that this empty feeling is one of the sensations that drives people to become addicted as an addiction could easily mask it and distract one from it. My reaction to it is very interesting. I am a little uncomfortable about it, but as I spend more time experiencing it, I am seeing how I have spent most of my life trying to exist without its presence.

I think the wood is here.

Namaste