Something About Nothing

Since a very early age, I've been quite busy doing a whole lot of something.  Friends and family have often expressed their amazement and/or concern over my non-stop schedule.  I've reached many milestones, accomplished many goals, and have volumes of other somethings that populate the pages of my personal autobiography.  Yet, I've never felt overly tired or overwhelmed.  Recently, though, I am doing much fewer somethings than ever, yet seem almost paralyzed by them.

Actually, I've been doing a whole lot of nothing lately, and yet I seem to have absolutely no time for something.  Ok, I do eek out a something here and there.  But, the overwhelming weight of the accumulated somethings in my life is taking up space in my nothingness.  By the end of each day, I am mentally and physically exhausted by all of the nothing that has filled my day... Or, is it, that there really is something about nothing?

Previously, I just could not comprehend why people were depressed, or suffered exhaustion, or had unmanageable pain.  I always believed that "keeping busy" was the solution to all of these.  Mind you, I was always open to the fact that all of our individual experiences are relative - I mean, we are used to what we are used to, right?  I get that.  But, maybe... Just maybe, there is more.  Maybe all of these physical ailments are actually manifestations of how "nothingness" allows somethings in, and those somethings fill that nothing space with something much heavier, much more weighty, much more immobilizing than nothing.  Maybe there is something about these somethings that is different than the somethings we were so busy with before.  And, maybe, being "consumed by nothing," is really those somethings taking over the nothingness, replacing all of the lighter, happier somethings that people may refer to as frivolous, with the more overwhelming somethings that we can usually overlook.

Regardless of whether or not that theory is even worth pursuing, I am truly beginning to understand when others in my life have said they were "so busy," but have accomplished almost nothing.  Perhaps, they have so much nothing that they are so pre-occupied with somethings from the past or somethings in their imagination, and a few current somethings that they are truly not able to fit in any more somethings.  Maybe that realization is the purpose, the true something that comes out of all of my recent nothing.  Or, maybe...just, maybe my definition of "something" has changed.