Nothing Doing

The Doing (Breathe in.)

I’ve just gone through a very full and eventful six months. I decided to sell my home and move to a smaller town I fell in love with one day after walking out of a bakery into the sunshine there. I made the decision to move, listed my condo with trusted realtor friends, and found an apartment in a gorgeous, historic building I was told would be impossible to get into, all in just over two weeks. There were many ups and down but also quite a few magical occurrences that made everything fall into place. Simultaneously my mother started to run out of money for her continued care. She was living in an assisted living facility that specializes in dementia. Though she still enjoyed life and remembered me her condition suddenly warranted 24/7 nursing care. My mother lives over 1200 miles away. Someone pointed me toward a social worker who pointed me toward a skillful legal firm, and now almost six months since this saga began my mother has been approved for Medicaid. There were so many lists. So many phone calls and legal documents. Several very steep learning curves. Once again, there were helpful people who seemed to make things fall magically into place for me. But I was busy. There were so many things I had to do. There were very negative consequences lurking, ready to pounce if I didn’t get everything done in a timely and correct manner. Did I mention that paperwork is not my strong suit? I also signed up to start receiving Social Security and switched from owning to renting during this time. I downsized and planned my move. I organized and bought what I needed and gave away or sold what I didn’t. I created a new life for myself. I was exhausted and elated.

The Nothings (Breathe out.)

Now I’m done. What now? Who are we when there is nothing we have to do, or at least not much? Some of us use busyness to avoid seeing ourselves or to prove our worth to others and maybe to ourselves. Some of us thrive on being busy. I’m not dissing being busy. Not at all. I’m asking myself (and you if you want to join in), “Who am I when I do what I want to do?” Go to a party or meet someone for the first time and they inevitably ask you, “What do you do?” Nothing wrong with that, but is what we do who we are? I think yes and no. What would I wear if I lived in the middle of nowhere and no one saw me for weeks at a time? What would my day look like? What would I care most about? It might not be that different. Or maybe it would. This stage of my life is very much like that scenario. I can do what I want most of the time. There isn’t anyone telling me how to me, except of course for the loud societal mouth that never closes. This nothingness is invigorating. I wonder how more swaths of it, no matter how small, might have affected me at an earlier time in my life… What I know now is that space or emptiness, whatever you choose to call it, invites us to fill it with what we want. It presents an opportunity to create an outer life that more strongly resembles who we are on the inside.

Cinse Bonino
2022