The Beauty of Emptiness

For some years now, I’ve been minimizing. It started with reducing the number of things we had when we moved from Massachusetts and downsized to this smaller home. We gave away or threw away more than one ton of stuff (according to the weight scale of the dumpster)- the detritus of 30+ years of bringing up children, accumulating possessions and things; hanging on to the stuff from childhoods and parents and countless times of getting that one thing we “just had to have”, only to find it shoved into a closet some months later.

The glitter of shiny things eventually loses its luster; what we thought was gold was merely brass - and it quickly tarnished.

The minimizing continued a few years ago when I read Joshua Becker’s book on minimalism [2]. Over the course of a few months, I cleaned out shelves and closets and nooks and crannies; books, yarn, clothing, knickknacks, kitchen excess - all manner of things. I learned the freedom of reducing the things I had; of keeping my home in such a way that open space was highlighted with extraneous things removed. I’m learning the beauty of emptiness

In much the same, I’m learning to let go of other things in recent months; I’m learning to open up my clenched fists of resentments and bitterness and heartaches - and letting them go; letting go of preconceived concepts that never served me well; letting go of who I thought I should be - and discovering- much to my surprise!- who I really am beneath the mental detritus I’ve been hanging on to. This is a different cleaning out - a different type of downsizing. And my heart sings with the freedom of it all!

I’ve also recently realized that this later stage of life truly is about letting go; and not just the letting go of things. It’s about letting go of what I once thought was so important: a higher degree; a good job that brought in a good salary; a place of prestige in my church or my job. I carefully crafted a persona of someone who was in charge, a leader, a person responsible for change. I saw myself as good, as important, as meaningful. In short, my self-image was really a carefully crafted model of who I thought I should be - all in an attempt to hide the childhood wounds, the insecurities, the broken dreams that had accumulated in my heart like old shoes and clothes in an ancient attic filled with broken stuff. Learning this about oneself is never easy; it takes a certain amount of courage to stand firm, look in the mirror and think, “Yes. Yes! I think I like you just the way you are.” And then, let go of that woman who took so much work to keep alive. Just that admission alone has been freeing and revolutionary.

It’s an amazing thing to discover who you really are in your 60’s - and then to allow yourself to love her just as she is.

In the letting go, I’ve also discovered that I don’t care so much anymore about what others think.  I don’t care if my home is impressive; I don’t care about the latest of much of anything: clothes, fashion, books, decorating.  I rarely care about the political or social opinions of others, and I’m more than willing to allow them permission to think just what they want; it’s ok. I don’t need to agree with everyone all the time, or more importantly - to have them agree with me. That alone opens up the world to love and joy! My priorities are shifting, what’s important is being rearranged in my heart. The things that are truly golden in my life are rising to the top, the dross melted out and discarded to make room for the pure gold of life.

I’m learning to allow empty space: empty space in my home - in my dresser drawers and in my closet. I’m learning to allow the gardens to breathe a bit, and recognizing that sometimes, that volunteer wild aster or native iris is more beautiful than the cultivated bulbs I’ve carefully planted and tended. I’m learning to allow empty space in my kitchen and in the pantry, no longer needing to see groaning shelves of food “just in case”. I am fine with letting go of keeping up with the latest fancy, international dishes filled with spices and complexities, and sticking to the simple dishes made with seasonal produce; maybe they aren’t as impressive but - they are still delicious dishes we prefer because, in our humble opinion, they are simply better.

The beauty of emptiness means I let go of what I don’t need, and become present to what I already have, to what is here, what is now, what is beautiful in this moment.

The beauty of emptiness means there is less fighting within for attention. Letting go of painful hurts from years gone by means forgiving others - and often forgiving myself; understanding that I am no more perfect than they, and it’s ok to let go and move on.  

The beauty of emptiness means letting go of all the “shoulda, woulda, coulda’s” in my life, allowing me to focus on this one day, this one week, this particular time in my life that needs my full attention. An empty canvas, an empty glass, an empty hand are all opportunities for the filling up with the new, the beautiful, the loved.

The glory of what is today far surpasses the tarnished glow from the past.

[1] The phrase “beauty of emptiness” was first read by me in Joan Chittister’s book, “The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully” (2010, Bluebridge). It is a beautiful phrase that I hope Sr. Joan will not mind my borrowing for today’s blog post.

[2] “The More of Less: Finding the Life You Want Under Everything You Own” (2016, WaterBrook)