Emptiness and space

A quiet Sunday night after a snowy November afternoon, and the BF and I get into not a debate but definitely a discussion about the difference between emptiness and having the space for new things. His tendency is to fill any perceived silence and/or perceived emptiness with some combination of video games and streaming entertainment, be it old horror films or the latest episode of some Marvel soap opera, while mine is to play old country music and read whichever Craig Johnson I've got handy while the clowder jockeys for couch space.  The discussion ended as most of them do with neither of us quite understanding the other's stance but agreeing to respect it.

For my part I've never been able to appreciate the recurring din, preferring the sensation of quiet, of the world seeming to still, a pool of deep water at dusk, out of which arises the beginnings of ideas and and the ability to breathe deeply.  Osho writes about something similar in The Empty Boat, about how to find god, or whatever version of truth one seeks, one first has to make space for the potential of that truth to become.  Out of emptiness, of silence, of boredom, rises potential and creativity, and in filling any moment of stillness with noise often the seeds of potential becoming are overridden by some jingle selling car stereos.

I also feel there's a deep and profound difference between the silence of simply being content in and of a moment and loneliness, whereby one dwells excessively on the absence of desired things, which translates into the longing for those things. 









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