This week I was inspired by, well, nothing. I guess my mind is as blank as the page of The Nothing Book (Wanna Make Something of it?). Remember that, by Bruce Harris? Many of you won’t of course, given it came out in the 70s. But it was huge back then. A book filled with blank pages. What a concept. Make a mint by putting a title on a notebook or diary. Bravo!
So why a naught for nothing post? Because there are so many thoughts and notions in my head they seem to blend into a big bunch of nothingness. Because there is so much to post about right now, and yet nothing to say that hasn’t already been said. Because so much is happening . . . and yet nothing appears to be moving/improving . . . as we wait (and worry) about what will transpire.
But nothing in and of itself has its merit. There’s nothing wrong with sitting back and attempting to relax, or gather momentum, or pray / hope / wish for better and safer days. Embracing nothingness lends itself to a sense of relief, if only temporarily.
I rather like the thought of nothing as “something that does not exist”—like this catastrophic period in history or the dire daily news. Or “nonexistence”—like this devastating illness. Ah, to wave a magic wand and have it all go away, to fade into . . . nothingness. To be able to do much ado about nothing, because that nothing is nothing more than something trivial, like too much cream in coffee.
So, today I’m posting about nothing—for the reason that there would be nothing better than to have nothing to worry about.
Stay safe my dear friends.