April 4, 2003 - Toronto

I've have a feeling of inertia, almost as if any *doing* is too much.

Any decision impossible.

I don't have much enthusiasm for anything, and at the same time nothing *really* presents itself to be done.

I feel a kind of empty space, a void, a nothingness. Not just inside me, but outside of me too.

I still respond - I feel myself most alive in response to other people, and that is about it.

I'd almost call what I feel 'depression', but that's not really it. It just is.

And the last couple of days I have lot of feeling in my chest, weeping coming up.

Perhaps this 'empty space' is there to allow these feelings - if I was engaged in doing, there would be no space for the feelings.

I can't really label the feelings - helplessness is closest.

Helpless to really 'help' anyone. At least in the way my mind thinks what 'helping' would look like. Helpless to 'know' what I 'should' be doing. Helpless to 'know' what is 'right'.

Helpless in the face of what is. Not even knowing what *that* is.

Nothing really makes sense any more, other than my physicality. My breath.

I've noticed that as I surrender to this inertia, as I let go of trying to make it different, I feel the possibility of real energy. Spontaneous, totally real in the moment energy.
Energy arising out of this emptiness, as opposed to energy arising out of a thought that says 'do this now'.

Yesterday, out of simply sitting, uncomfortable, I felt a desire to sing.
So, that's what I did!