I believed her because I immediately recognized that feeling -- the sweet Siren's call of oblivion.
Probably the same day I saw her, I was walking down the street considering how easy it would be to just . . . not be. How comfortable to just fall into oblivion. I pictured a placeless place, through a black hole and a universe away from everything.
Let me assure you, I have no wish to go and seek oblivion. There are moments, I think, when all that is unsettled in my world speaks with its many-headed voice and gestures with too many hands to count, and the only way I can find a space to breathe is to consider the possibility of Nothing. Nowhere.
To imagine that emptiness is to clear out just enough room to breathe again. And to breathe is to take in life itself. And life trumps oblivion. Every time.
While I was travelling, I heard and thought much about the Buddhist concept of dukkha. (Most simply translated as "suffering.") Our lives are unsatisfactory at times, this is the nature of existence. Without dukkha, there can be no happiness, joy or contentment. Contrast brings focus. Touching the idea of oblivion illuminates the hunger to live.
So as I continued my walk, thinking of oblivion, I breathed into that space and caught the first whiff of thawed ground and the return of spring.
