Shundo David Haye – Zen Priest

‘I cannot fathom the world-ending pain of losing a child, but I do recognise that terror of the void, that compulsion to fill a space; I think everyone can. This is the kenophobia of our own minds – a fear not of empty rooms, but of the empty feeling inside. A fear that we need to face if we want to build a better life.

We do all sorts of things to try to superficially fill up the emptiness of our lives and to defend ourselves against this feeling. I have pointed this out as a therapist to patients in my consulting room – and I have tried to deny it as a patient in my analyst’s consulting room. We might try to run away from the feeling by having sex or taking drugs or overexercising; we might try to hide the void from others and from ourselves with envy-provoking Instagram stories. We might try unconsciously to distract ourselves by dramatically breaking up and making up with friends and partners; we might try to fill the space by eating too much or shopping online.

Would capitalism survive if we weren’t constantly seeking to fill this void? Maybe every political ideology is just a different false solution to the same problem…

Unfortunately, none of this actually fills the void; quite the reverse. Running away from it makes the emptiness far more terrifying, like the monsters that chase us in our dreams.

What can help is recognising that denying this feeling is making things worse – not just for ourselves, but for our loved ones, too. We might then realise that there is an alternative: to tolerate the feeling, to turn towards it and try to understand it.

While we are stuck on the hamster wheel of trying to get away from a feeling of emptiness, it is not possible for us to stop and realise that, in reality, we have the capacity to tolerate it. When we jump off that wheel, we can discover that the feeling is survivable. We can then take a breath, realise that the monster of our dreams may not be as frightening as it appears and begin to nurture an interest and curiosity in what we have been refusing to look at. That is our chance to discover that the emptiness might not be as empty as we assume it is.

It might be that there are all sorts of feelings in there. Unwanted feelings that are being emptied out – emptied out as we empty our bank account buying another pair of shoes, or as we filter out the blemishes in photos to provoke the envy in others that we cannot bear to feel ourselves, or as we make our children responsible for taking care of our anxieties. Unwanted feelings of pain, intrusion, abandonment, exclusion, terror, rage, self‑loathing – and terrible, terrible grief.

It might sound as if I am judging the running away. I am not. I think it is the most understandable, human, instinctive reaction to loss and trauma. I also recognise that if we keep doing it, we pay a very high price. And that after an instinctive reaction, it may be possible to allow space for a more reflective response. Turning towards these feelings and feeling them, allowing them into our conscious minds and giving them a voice – this is how we can work towards a more solid sense of ourselves. It is a powerful and profound transformation, from emptying yourself out to understanding why you sometimes feel empty.’ (from the Guardian)