Emptiness

We all know when something is empty. It is without contents. Take an empty glass. It is a glass filled with nothing. But that isn't true really. The glass is filled, just not with something you can see or touch. It is filled with a gas. Air. So, in truth the empty glass isn't empty, and in fact, it is never in an empty state at all.

I suppose this would be true of all empty things. They say space is not empty, even though there is no air in space. There is lots of other stuff in space, some visible and some invisible. Science says that nature abhors a vacuum. So even nature doesn't acknowledge the existence of emptiness. It will rush to fill the emptiness, crushing the container if necessary, to fill the void. Everything is filled with something, even when you can't see it.

I am always gratified when spiritual concepts are confirmed with science.

In the center of my chest is a spot that you could fit both fists and still not fill it. Nothing is there but this great emptiness. The things that were there have been torn out, leaving ragged edges that scream in pain when something comes in contact. The walls have sealed off to protect and maintain the integrity of the structure. Still, it is a void, dark and hollow surrounded by a container attempting to maintain its form beneath the pressures of existence.

But science says this is impossible. I suppose in once sense it is filled. It is filled with the most terrible pain. Still, this is no protection from a vacuum. Breathing in a vacuum is impossible. Lungs collapse and blood will boil. Your body will explode as nature attempts to reinstate balance.

Unfortunately, when you are missing some of the parts of the structure, there is no way to maintain the integrity of the structure. It will collapse. It will be crushed. Nature. . . and I abhor a vacuum.