Emptiness

The future scares me.  What will happen?  Where will I be?  Do I need to plan now to ensure future safety?

In my last post I talked about a picture and what I thought it would be.  I didn’t mention all the worry manifested as body tension and constant planning, predicting to Photoshop the picture.  Add a touch up here.  Remove something undesirable there.  Change the hue.  It’s almost perfect but not quite right.

Today in yoga class, Jackie was talking about an empty cup having space to be filled.  A filled cup is already full.  What does it mean to be empty, to have space?  The following poem intuitively emerged from her words and yoga instructions.

my cup is empty
waiting to be filled
with the next liquid moment
not knowing what will spill over
what will stay
what will soothe or burn
drinking it all
to be empty once more

I don’t know what the current picture is supposed to look like, what the background should be, or even who should be in it.  But as I sense the currents of anxiety vibrating through me, I also feel this empty, compassionate presence willing to stay with me till I can visualize a new picture emerging.   A woman holds an empty cup, supported by Mother Earth below, Father Sky above, her heart open to what lies ahead.  She has no idea what the next liquid moment will bring, what will spill over, what will stay, what will soothe or burn. 

Still, she is willing to drink it all to be empty once more.