Becoming Nothing

Sometimes I write a bit of prose.

The rock they gave you always feels lighter when you begin to push it.

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The top of the hill never looks more distant than when you are at the bottom, and you do not know what awaits at the summit because you have never reached it. With each beginning, you know you are doomed to fail, cursed by god or by the gods or by simple circumstance.

You move your rock with strength and will, and slowly progress up the hill, but just as the summit is close enough to reach out and touch, the stone falls backward and rolls down the hill.

You are tired and your energy is spent, yet you rush down the hill to begin this journey once again.

And once again, you fail. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring—failure is your only season.

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Have they ever told you what waits at the top of the hill—of course not.

Would you be surprised if I told you the only thing that waits at the summit is Nothing, and if you were actually able to push that stone upward and over the top, you would become Nothing. And if you were to become Nothing, well, that would be something. If that were to happen, the gods would fear their power over you could disappear. But more than that, they would also disappear.

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I, who have been cursed in another way, can be of no help to you. This curse is yours. This endless journey toward Nothing is something you must live with. But I can give you a bit of advice:

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When the stone rolls back down the hill, slow down, catch your breath, let your aching muscles rest, close your eyes and breathe in deeply the sweet scent of mountain air, fill your chest with its goodness, listen to the soft murmuring of the forest below, heed the far-off birdsong, open your eyes to clouds as they move across the sky. Imagine the sound they make even though you can’t hear them. Feel your heart begin to lighten.

Live in this moment. Take your time. Be.

The stone will wait.

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