On January 18th at 2:52pm, the Moon was New again. I think it’s interesting how every cycle it’s New – not so much recycled as reborn. A tangent? Maybe. But probably not.
In the last post I had focused on Presentation – specifically differentiating it from being Present. I talked about how throughout my life I had adapted by creating public-facing versions of myself, and fabricating the realities they lived in. I also talked about the personal cost of doing that, despite the alleged protection it offered.
I also spoke about how, in the hospital, there was no room for a Presentation. I had to “be vulnerable, scared, trusting, and brave—all at once. I had to simply ‘be.’”
The time in the hospital saw Presentation peeled away until there was only “me” left. Layer by layer, artifice by artifice, until pretense was a memory. I wasn’t reduced to ‘nothing’, I was reset to only what truly mattered.
This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend a sitting meditation at the Shambhala Center in Takoma Park, MD. It was the first time I had taken part in a truly silent meditation in years – and even longer since I had done it in community. In the silence, there were the random thoughts that scurried through my brain, looking for something to hold on to, which might provide the attention they sought. I let them drift without giving them purchase. They were acknowledged for their value, but there was not a true absence of thought.
What exists between lack and abundance? Where do we sit when we are nowhere, but we still are? How do we detach from the realities we manufacture, while still moving through the realities that are necessary?
How do we align with who we are, instead of who we think we need to be? This was the path of this cycle’s focus – but “the word” was eluding me.
I came home from the weekend and saw Jean-Paul Sartre’s “Being and Nothingness” on my bookshelf, and Salt‑N‑Pepa echoed in my head… “That’s not it.” The Being, yes, the Nothingness – no. It also wasn’t non-attachment, despite the time in meditation.
Instead, it was the reduction in affectation while still embodying a singular truth of being.
It was Zero.
In the 5th-7th centuries CE the Indian mathematician Brahmagupta was one of the first to use Zero to represent something – not the absence of something. A value that could be explained and expanded – and yes, even reduced – it was brought into being – it existed.
Similarly, my time in the hospital provided that level of existence. It stripped away my layers of integers and set me at Zero. I was able to find both refuge and a kind of salvation in the simplicity. A simplicity it is still difficult to allow myself.
For this cycle, I am examining Zero. How can I reduce without diminishing? How can I simplify until the one element left is what is true and real?
I’m reaching back for the companion song for the cycle: “Saved By Zero” by The Fixx. I had thought to include the lyric here, but the whole first verse captures the moment. In reviewing it though, I found that the breaths are just as important as the words. Doesn’t that really just speak to the point? The times we stop are as important as our time in motion. Absence still leaves us with something of great value – even if we aren’t able to understand it without context.
We don’t need everything. We rarely need anything extraneous. Maybe, someday, saved by Zero.