It's been almost 17 months since I've written anything. And that was all about feeling a lack of inspiration and having a difficult time creating. To be honest, I'm not sure what compelled me to sit down and write now. But the impulse arrived and I thought it was important to put something down before it dissipated. So here is your fair warning that this post will be about nothing.

I'm fascinated by the concept of Nothingness. It's the noun of the absence of Something. There's no feasible way to describe it, as there is, well, nothing to describe. So we created a placeholder. It's the lack of anything which is the substance of the word. Twisty, huh? The implications are pretty mind-bendy, too: what is Nothing, how do we quantify Nothing, how are we fully sure when Nothing has ended and given way to Something? There are no easy solutions to those first two questions, but the last has a very clear answer. Once anything has taken place, there is no longer Nothingness. But here's the really tricky part: Do we ever really know that there was Nothingness before Something has started to exist? The folks over at The Department of SmarterThanThou at Stanford have this to say. Take note of the Victor Hugo quote from that epic novel "Les Miserables Because Nothing Has Happened For the Last 1,000 Pages". I see what he's saying but I think it's fascinating that he has to use the word to explain his reasoning. And to further my point (thanks, Vic), he's absolutely right that "zero does not exist". There, too, we've invented a numeric placeholder for the lack of numbers. It's the mathematical equivalent of a void. And yet we need the language to describe it. "It", again, being the "lack of it". I know. Take a minute, do some brain mind calisthenics, mull it over, get back to me.

"Dear Elie, What in the hell are you are on about? Love, Everyone" Excellent question, Everyone. I promise there is a point here. Uncertainty has never been my strong suit. I'm notoriously anxious and uncomfortable without a clear plan. I don't do well without an organized vision of what's to come and a structure in which to operate. And yet, I'm learning to take great comfort in the Nothingness I've been feeling lately since it means there is only Something to look forward to. Certainly there is fear that it may take an unbearably long time to arrive; that from the lack of use the aptitude or even desire will atrophy. But I'm choosing to put faith in the instability and emptiness since everything must spawn from some point of creation and some spark of inception. So I'm focusing on the waiting. I'm reassuring myself that it will appear again. I'm surrounding myself with people and art and ideas that the challenge me. And I'm allowing myself a reprieve from the terror and doubt and confusion and pain of feeling unfulfilled. Because seeking an outlet for all of this pent up motivation that can't be accessed is exhausting. Hasn't this paradox been the plight of all creative-minded people for centuries? This struggle between needing to express and make and perform and execute and build and actualize, and the sometimes inability to locate any of the tools required to do so? I don't think it ever gets easier but I think the pressure I place on myself is something I can always control. Sometimes it's the only thing.

And thus, I'm embracing the Nothing.