Two wonderful poems to share today about the emptiness where life lives. Sometimes we feel saddened by the empty spaces–a sense of loss takes hold, whether the loss is about things or opportunities or ideas or loved ones. If we can be with that feeling long enough, without judging it and hating it, even letting it go, we let the magic and wonder emerge from the emptiness.
____ Thirty spokes are joined together in a wheel, But it is the center hole That allows the wheel to function.
We mold clay into a pot, But it is the emptiness inside That makes the vessel useful.
We fashion wood for a house, But it is the emptiness inside That makes it livable.
We work with the substantial, But the emptiness is what we use. — Lao Tzu ______
And, shared with me by a dear friend recently:
What makes a fire burn is space between the logs, a breathing space. Too much of a good thing, too many logs packed in too tight can douse the flames almost as surely as a pail of water would. So building fires requires attention to the spaces in between, as much as to the wood. When we are able to build open spaces in the same way we have learned to pile on the logs, then we can come to see how it is fuel, and absence of the fuel together, that makes the fire possible. We only need to lay a log lightly from time to time. A fire grows simply because the space is there, with openings in which the flame that knows just how it wants to burn can find its own way. - Judy Brown