empty

Sometimes it feels like what I do, all day long, is empty things.  I empty the trash cans.  I empty the dishwasher.  I empty the basket of drycleaning into a bag to take it down the street.  I empty the grocery bags into the fridge.  I empty the childrens’ backpacks and I empty their lunchboxes.  I empty the mailbox and pay the bills and make a note of the babies to send gifts to and the things I need to RSVP to.  I empty the front hall table, bringing all of the detritus that accumulates there up the stairs to where it belongs. I empty the basement, sorting through things we don’t need anymore, deciding what goes to be handed down, what goes to Goodwill, what goes to the trash.  I empty my email and my voicemail boxes.

I listen to the kids, let them empty onto me the things from their days that made them happy and the things that made them fret.  I listen to Matt, let him empty his frustrations and elations, big and small.

Everything is always overflowing and too full.  Sometimes it seems like the primary function of my life is to keep the encroaching entropy at bay.  I must be constantly vigilant against this rising tide of disorder, mess, stuff.

Why, then, do I feel so empty some of the time?

13 thoughts on “empty”

  1. But all the stuff you mentioned, it’s good and amazing that it’s so full you need to clean it out and empty. I wonder why empty has to be held in a negative context. You have such a full life, that emptiness you feel might just be a need to notice the overwhelming gifts in your life? Just spouting off the first thoughts that came into my head after reading this… sorry if it makes no sense 🙂

  2. I agree w Corinne. I kind of envy you your ability to empty (at least organizationally). I don’t empty and I avoid and the detrius builds up and I get overwhelmed.

  3. Yes to all of the above, but I wonder, too, if emptying is like keeping the windows of our lighthouse clear, or unearthing our wings, polishing off our compass. I wonder if emptying is part of making room to fill anew, to find space for the good to come…

    And then, from the meditation trained part of me, there’s always the “chop wood, carry water” theory…

    Thanks for the push to think about this…

  4. I share that feeling and sometimes think my incessant busy-ness is to keep the emptiness from taking over and flattening me. I wish I had an answer for you, but I do know this: your writing feels full, complex, and beautiful–the very opposite of empty.

  5. This is a sacred role I think, and here you act for others almost like a priest — what if you think of this role as holding, sorting, and releasing the complex feelings of the people who love you… rather than being the dumper of their trash.

    And why do you feel empty? Perhaps you need somebody to hold, weigh, and sort your own feelings. (Or perhaps that is the role of this sacred space, adesignsovast.com)

    Am I overreaching here with the quotidian/divine connection? I don’t think so, but you tell me.

  6. Sometimes I feel the same way, as far as being the “master emptier”, but it makes me sad to hear of the emptiness you feel. I hope you’re able to find something today that makes you feel full. I already dread the day when it’s my nest that’s empty.

  7. Lindsey,
    I hear you! It can all be so overwhelming. Within the last couple of months, I have simply stopped doing as much. I try to take most mornings – although now in the summer it is harder. But I take at least 2 , and do the “emptying” in the early afternoon while a sitter watches my kids swim and play tennis. I don’t mind the emptying as much now. And I am not as empty. But theres a price to pay. As I sit and drink coffee and write and read blogs, my daughter just called to say she didn’t have any clean clothes for tennis… sigh. I feel horrible. But I told her there was nothing I could do from here. I wanted to start listing all the things I have done – but I watched you all day at the swim meet yesterday and watched all three of your soccer games after that, and tuesday night we walked to the lake…and……etc

    I wanted to note you are lucky your kids and husband will share so much of their day. Two of my kids and my husband rarely share from their day – they would rather just be in the present.

    If we are too empty, there is nothing left to give. This is my lesson this year. I have let things slide – not returned emails or calls, missed appointments, and yea, the laundry too. But I feel better.

    Self care, my friend. Self Care.

  8. Your posts (like the picture one and this one) are like meditations. I feel like I have sat for 20 mins and discovered whenever I read them. Thank you 🙂

  9. I enjoy “emptying” – it is cathartic for me and gives me a sense of purpose. I think the trick is to stop and take the time to feel gratitude for what is passing through your hands, heart and mind. It is easy to feel overwhelmed on the Treadmill of Life but (as I need to constantly remind myself) we are blessed to have things to empty.

  10. I’m not very good at emptying, especially emptying the physical stuff. I have to work at it, which for me is like the effort of trying to let go. I admire and envy a little the ease with which you seem to move the physical things through.

    What is the relationship, I wonder, between the things we hold onto and the things we let go of?

  11. Totally relate to this post. I am the Chief Emptier at home and then I go to work (pastor of a church) and empty stuff there! I am sooo grateful for my spiritual director, whom I visit once a month, and on whom I empty my stuff. And I am thankful for places of emptiness, or maybe I should say unclutteredness, like beaches, retreat houses, the lap lanes of swimming pools.

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