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Date: April 2004
EMPTY SPACE
I believe there are two types of people. Nomads and nesters. Nomads spend their lives wandering, searching for something. Nesters pick a location and make a home.
The nesters fill the void in their lives with things. Stuff. Material goods. They build up the space around them and fill it with what-have-you. Cocooning themselves from the world – from experiences, from pain, and from joy. Their nests might be full, but they are still empty.
Nomads – they try to fill the void in their lives with just the opposite. Little material goods, few belongings, nothing to hold them back or tie them down. Sounds kind of nice... And what they lack in worldly goods, they make up for with experiences. Meeting new people, seeing parts of the world...but they are still empty. For if they weren't, why would they keep searching?
I've got a lot of stuff. Most of it I haven't touched for probably a year or so. Yet I keep it. It surrounds me. The routines of daily life are just as stifling as my things. When I travel, all the stuff that seems so important, taping the shows, getting all the DVD's, playing the video games...it doesn't matter. I like to travel light, though I haven't quite mastered that yet. But when I am out there...wind blowing through my hair, sun on my face, music blasting...none of it matters.
Everyone has an empty space. We spend our lives trying to fill it; chasing after the elusive 'next big thing' or 'true love'. For 25 years I tried to fill it with stuff. And then I met him.
And for a brief, tiny speck of time, I knew what it was to have that empty space filled.
But things change. Feelings change. My empty space is empty once more. Hollow. It feels twice as big as before.
I think I shall spend the rest of my days wandering, searching for someone who can fill it again.