Inside me resides a deep fear of emptiness. For emptiness in relationships, where the familiar certainty of love for each other is suddenly no longer so certain. Where more is silent than told. Where contact seems endlessly distant. I am also afraid of emptiness in my work. Holes of nothing, no clients, no turnover, no appreciation. Or for the emptiness that is palpable as the sense of being meaningfully engaged is lost.
Emptiness in myself
Most of all I fear the emptiness in myself. That indefinable, bare, and displaced feeling that mainly crops up when I’m not paying attention. Suddenly it’s there. It puts a knot in your stomach, makes your heart sad, and your body heavy. Do you recognize that? How can that alienating feeling suddenly overwhelm you?
Sometimes it appears after an intense period filled with inspiring moments. Sometimes after a conflict where you feel painfully rejected. It can also snooze in the background almost continuously. If you are chronically ill, have lost a loved one, are in a difficult relationship, or have been out of a relationship for a long time.
We are afraid of that bare no man’s land, where there is no foothold, no frames of reference, no feeling of being welcome in an existing bed of warmth and love. And so we do everything we can to avoid encountering that emptiness.
We work hard, we do our best to be loved, we create a safe haven in Facebook communities and fill our time with likes, oohs! and wow! and share our lives with countless selfies just to make sure our lives aren’t empty. That we belong somewhere. That we are heard and seen. Or we fill the void with dating, exciting sex, booze, drugs, or Netflix.
Become aware of your habits
Is that bad? No, not at all in my opinion. It’s something I see myself and others doing. It’s just nice to be aware of it. And it is also nice to feel from where your actions arise. Is your life full and inspired and does everything you do add value? Or do you recognize that basic void and do you see how you want to fill it in all kinds of ways? And how is that for you? Is it satisfactory? It is enough? Does it give you peace and fulfillment? Even then there is nothing wrong. Above all, enjoy!
It was often not enough for me. And it certainly didn’t rest. Subconsciously I was exorcising that emptiness and that gave me tension and made me tired. Too often behind the computer, too busy steering the future of my own company, seeking too much clarity in relational spheres. The cadres want to know, want to see the path, and have a clear future. Not knowing made me restless, but knowing gave me peace. But that was, of course, an illusion. Because what can you know for sure? Everything is constantly subject to change. What is certain today will be uncertain tomorrow.
Lyme disease: my great teacher
Lyme disease has been my great teacher in this. Of course, I already knew that silence is beneficial and that doing nothing for a while brings more than wanting to fix or check. And I consciously put that into practice on many fronts in my work and life. In that sense, I knew and practiced life from Being. To a certain extent.
Because just like everyone else, 90% of my actions were unconsciously controlled. Old patterns are simply deeply rooted. I was good at being Zen and at the same time, I saw often enough how I was still trying to avoid that emptiness on a deeper level. Until Lyme paralyzed me and the great nothingness revealed itself life-size to me. No escape!
Too tired for the computer, to take groups into the woods, for social outings, for long conversations, for Facebook, for long walks, and for sports. My body is too sore for yoga. TV disturbed my sleep. One activity per day. Usually treatment with one of the many therapists from the alternative circuit. The rest consisted of hanging out, sleeping, and reading a little bit.
For a long time, I tried to actively influence the disease process. By reading a lot about Lyme, following all the beneficial protocols as best you can, seeing the best therapists, and following the best diet. But I made no progress. After a few good days, I invariably collapsed again. And after every apparently successful treatment trajectory, the Borrelia struck again. Always back to square one.
I had no control over what was happening in my body. I didn’t know if I would ever get better. Not sure if it would get any worse. I knew nothing, I could do nothing. I couldn’t pretend to be nicer than I was. Or cozier. I could be of little significance to my environment. All the carefully constructed security frameworks that gave me the assurance that I mattered had crashed along with my vitality. What remained was that great void that I had carefully avoided all these years.
Surrendering to not knowing
What else could I but welcome myself into limbo? Surrendering to not knowing. Feeling lonely. What could I do other than what I always invite my readers to: be with an open curiosity about what is there. Don’t fight, don’t resist, don’t manipulate. Relax in the void. Stay with it. To feel.
The void was by no means empty. He was filled with frustration and despondency. With fear and sadness. And with thousands of thoughts and a hundred stories. It wasn’t until I steadily meditated through the stories and the thoughts lost their truth that the void became wide and silent. The chill disappeared. A gentle warmth took its place. The loving energy that gave the void a bed.
I called her God because I was sure she had always been there. Hadn’t been. That is me, around me, she moved through me and had always moved like that. That she was here and there and everywhere. It was that which cannot be contained in words and yet has many names. Allah, I AM, The Source, The Life, The Mystery.
Trust the source
This is not meant to be a gloomy story, and yet the experience has those characteristics. I can not help it. Earlier I wrote about everything that happened when I started to trust the source of life more and more, and how I suddenly turned out to be recovering. After that I had one more strong relapse, then focused even more on the energy of Love, and then the recovery finally set in.
Was it the Biophoton therapy that gave the bacteria the final blow? Was it because I turned daily to the Mystery? I don’t know. What I do know is that the Lyme is gone. That I feel energetic. And happy and cheerful. And that the feeling of loneliness has not passed for a moment. Not even a little bit. I thank the Lyme. It has given me exactly what I longed for in my life: really coming home to life.