Monday, June 27, 2011

the Value of Nothing

It's Monday and I am at home. I have wanted to put something in here for awhile but I didn't have anything to really write about. Well maybe I did, but I could not justify the importance of actually penning it so I simply didn't. Then, as I was at work, I was reading an article about the tiny island nation of Nauru. Basically this tiny island in the South Pacific used to be incredibly wealthy. The result of ample natural resources (primarily Phosphate) and a relatively low population. Many resources + small population = $$$

That's not the end of the story though. Apparently their resources all but dried up and the island was ruined. Now it faces calamity on all fronts. No money, no food, poor investments, global warming and a decimated ecosystem. Foreshadowing for the US eventually? Maybe. Is that the point of this entry? No.

I like to read the comments to every story I read because it gives me insight into the type of people that read articles like that. I read through about 30 comments or so when I get to one where somebody says, "This story goes to prove that even though this story is about nothing in particular, it is about everything." Now obviously the story was clearly about something. He must have missed the part about the island's fall from grace; a Utopian society on it's knees. I'm guessing his reading comprehension skills are quite low: Standardized testing should confirm this. His thoughtless comment got me thinking though and ultimately inspired this entry. Sometimes it's okay to write about nothing. Sometimes nothing is one of the most important subjects we can write about because life is not a movie.

The majority of our days are unremarkable, unless you are my friend Alecia, who travels the globe in search of adventure, but even then I am sure there are days where nothing happens. The fact remains that nothing happening to us during our day may just be the most common thing everyone in this world shares. We all know the feeling of time passing without us noticing. The expression, "I can't believe it is_____ already!" comes to mind. Its okay when nothing happens, sometimes we should be thankful that nothing happens because not everything that happens is good and not everything good that happens actually is.

This is contradicted by one of my favorite films, Adaptation. Easily Nicolas Cage's best role, aside from maybe Con Air. I won't recite the plot to you, but there is a period where Charlie Kaufman, played by Nic Cage, takes a film writing class. In that class he speaks out about how there is nothing to his screen play, that writing about flowers is boring and he cannot bring it to life. Essentially, nothing happens. The teacher of the film class derides him for thinking nothing happens in life and posits that something is always happening in life. The complex drama that goes on each day in each life is unending and limitless. And he's right too.

When nothing is going on then everything is going on. I retreat to my thoughts in my mind and start to try and rationalize things that have happened to me; I try to justify my reactions and feelings. I am blissfully unaware of everything around me. I have no idea what has happened to people around me during the day. The kind smiles, the nods of familiar faces as I pass them through the halls, the people with their eyes towards the ground, the people talking to themselves, all of them have something to say but we never really ask. We've all been trained to auto-respond with simple phrases and planned conversations. Seldom do we allow ourselves to interact with others when there is nothing going on.

Sometimes I see people sitting by themselves, heads down with eyes on their cell phones, texting or watching something with their ear buds blocking them off from the rest of the world. I see them sitting there scratching at their microwaved lunches and sometimes I wonder how they are feeling. Part of me wants to ask, to go up and ask what's on their mind. Why are they just sitting there closed off from everyone? Instead of letting something happen I am comfortable with nothing. I don't approach that person because I feel we don't have anything in common, but I don't really know that. I know that they are different than me and in my vane sense of the world I regard them as not worth talking to despite what I am thinking. I grab my brown bag from the refrigerator, fill up my water and head back to my desk and continue with nothing. Then I read an article about a small island where there is nothing and it inspires me to write about nothing. There are plenty of things I could write about, but I choose this. The world moves too fast because we are all busy doing nothing.

When we interact with those around us, when we bother to get to know someone, that's when life happens and the cycle of nothing slows down. We find ourselves laughing and loving, and sometimes it is okay to laugh and love about nothing because sometimes nothing really is everything. Nothing is only nothing when we choose it to be. Nothing is everything when we want it to be.