Reading about other people’s dreams today, both their successes and their losses…  Sharing, at a distance, the loss of a loved one…  Feeling once more, in my own heart, the emptiness created by my own losses – of dreams, and hopes, and treasured companions on this journey I have undertaken, at this time, in this place…  And these thoughts occur to me…


Time is relentless, pushing ever foward.

Loss is unavoidable, if we allow ourselves to truly care about anything at all.

Losing something meaningful creates a void, where significance once existed.

My heart and mind shy from such emptiness, seeking something… anything… to fill that space.

I turn to memory, hoping to find fulfillment in what once was.  But memory is fickle and unreliable; seeking to distract, it only compounds my sense of what is missing, lacking, as it does, the vibrancy of now.

I turn back to face the void before me, feeling grief at the enormity of what has passed, and can never be replaced…

I contemplate what was there once, wondering if I have regrets?  Or guilt?  Or shame?  About what never actually existed there.

Did I lack something?

Did I fail to make the most of what I had?

Did I squander opportunities?

Am I missing what was, or what might have been?…

And it suddenly occurs to me that the vastness of the emptiness I feel is itself a tribute, validating, as it does, the true significance of my loss.

Something, someone, mattered to me; mattered so much that I feel its loss this keenly.  This vacuum in my life story is a memorial to the moments I shared, to the love I felt, to the ecstasy and agony of interacting with my world.

And, for now anyway, I am alive.  I still exist.  Knowing that, I see the void before me with new eyes.  For that emptiness represents pure potential and possibility.

They say that nature abhors a vacuum, and so I know that space will be filled anew with other moments of significance, with new dreams, and new loved ones…

So, for now anyway, I choose to revel in the blankness before me, honoring those moments of significance before they are lost under the weight of what shall replace them.

For time is relentless, pushing ever forward, and memory is fickle and unreliable.  Soon enough, even this emptiness will be lost…


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