Emptiness, Silence and Infinity

There is indeed something disconcerting about emptiness, let's agree. Something awesome, hideous, and yet beautiful. I was always fond of the paradox that emptinesses are full.

I don't know where I heard this when I was a kid, or if I came up with it myself. I just remember snapping into the realization that maybe my silence was worth a lot more than most of the words I was saying (and it was true). Not that I didn't have anything to say; much more like the other way around. Words sometimes faltered and failed to explain whatever it was I needed to express, so I just kept quiet instead.

Not everyone understands, though. Some get very mad, some smile in empathy. It is hard to understand emptiness. It is hard to read a blank piece of paper. It is even harder to write a blank piece of paper. The gaps between the words. The pauses. What words show means a lot, yet what is understated worths much, much more.

Nothingness brings imagination. Imagination brings oneself to the mind's eye. Imagination imprints oneself into something or someone. A meaningless movement or a silent glance. The lack of one holds all the others. It can be whatever we want it to be. The missing last love confession, the unplayed notes. The words we want to hear, or the meaning-change comma.

Now, don't be extreme and do a vow of silence, but consider. Silence doesn't mean anything if you don't intend it to. Silence and emptiness are full. They are infinite. If you create infinity.


"Silence is so freaking loud"
— Sarah Dessen, Just Listen


"God is silent. Now if only man would shut up."
— Woddy Allen


"The quieter you become, the more you can hear."
— Baba Ram Das

And I'll leave you with one of my favorites songs of all time.

John Cage: 4'33"