The Emptiness

Scott Bradley

It came from within but soon permeated all that was. All was emptiness. The Emptiness. Measures were taken; meaning was coined, but still The Emptiness prevailed. Barriers were erected; entry was denied, but The Emptiness paid no heed. Lives were lost; despair ran rampant, but The Emptiness cared for none. All was empty, wherever one might turn. Only denial could save the flimsy film of human presumption from chaos and despair.

Yet there were some who praised and embraced the Beast saying, "The Emptiness is no Beast, but a Beauty beyond compare. It is we who error when we refuse Reality. It is we who have birthed The Emptiness, and The Emptiness is us. Be The Emptiness you are and you are all things."

It is believed this brought peace to many; yet for most it was but newly minted meaning, one more slippery means to dodge undodgeable fact.

There were others who said, "Empty or full, what difference does it make? Live the life you have, and let the devil take the rest." Many of these long survived — until they were no more.

Often I have said that emptiness is our most immediate reality, yet I can speak for no one but myself. But is it emptiness or something else? It is nothing else, not even emptiness. But we must call it something if we are to speak of it at all.

What other approximating synonyms might we use? Groundlessness. We are dust in the wind. A morning's mist soon to vanish.

Yet what is groundlessness but a seeking for a ground? Yes, we are the Emptiness, the Beauty or the Beast, which exists only because we, for a moment, do.

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