Empty Or Full

It was an early August morning, the kind of morning that doesn’t bend with time. That is to say that everything was exactly as it should be, waiting to be noticed, yet camouflaged from those who couldn’t slow down enough to listen. And listening, the girl did best. On this particular morning, the girl was quiet, not having uttered a word in the many minutes we had been together, when suddenly she turned to face me, her brow slightly furrowed, and asked, “Do you hear all of nature’s voices like I do?” And I had never been asked such a question nor had I ever seen such intensity reflected in a child’s face before, so I asked her, “What are nature’s voices saying to you?”

The girl looked surprised and said, “Can I tell you the whole story?” 

“Of course,” I replied. 

She nodded her head once and took a deep breath. This is what she said. 

Once upon a time there was a girl and she was sad. She wasn’t always sure why she was sad. In fact, she wasn’t always sure why sometimes she felt happy or excited or worried or angry or any of the other things a person can feel. One night when the girl was feeling too many feelings for her brain to make sense of, they all exploded out of her and she was left feeling empty. And feeling empty was worse than feeling full so she cried until there was a puddle at her feet. And she couldn’t stop crying, so the puddle became a creek, and the creek became a river, and the river became a lake, and the lake became an ocean, and the ocean became the sky, and she couldn’t tell if she was sinking or floating or both or neither. And then she saw the moon reflected in her ocean of tears and she said, “Moon, is emptiness the same thing as loneliness?”

And the moon said, “To feel lonely is to feel as though you don’t belong in the place that you are in. And to feel empty is to feel as though there is no place to feel the belonging. I felt lonely before I met the sun and the sun told me that I belong in the sky with her, and so now I don’t feel lonely or empty.”

The girl pondered this before asking, “Can you help me find a friend like the sun is to you?” 

The moon responded, “Yes, I can make you a friend.”

And so as the darkness of night gave way to the very first rays of sunlight, the moon made the girl a friend and the girl named her friend Shadow. Nobody could see Shadow herself, and nobody could hear Shadow but herself, and that suited both of them just fine. The girl thanked the moon for her new friend, but the moon had one more thing to say. “Now you have a friend, but if you want to feel even less lonely, you need only to listen to the voices of Nature.”

“The voices of Nature?” the girl asked. But the moon had already disappeared and so the girl and Shadow set out to be together, without anything but the simple instruction: to listen. And listening is what the girl did best. In no time, the girl started to hear what Nature was saying, but the more she listened, the more crowded her brain got and the only way to unburden herself was to share the listenings with Shadow. Shadow didn’t mind.   

The wind told her that it never felt empty or full. It just flowed from one place to the next, filling in the empty spaces like pieces to an unsolved puzzle. The wind asked for the girl’s help to solve the puzzle, and so the girl gave a small piece of herself to the wind. 

The oak trees told her that even when they lost their leaves in the fall, they knew they could grow leaves again and that knowledge outweighed the feeling of emptiness. The trees asked for the girl’s help to plant the acorns so that more trees could grow, and so the girl gave a small piece of herself to the trees. 

The clouds told her that they loved shifting shapes in the sky, but that they were worried their old version of themselves would be forgotten. And that sometimes felt lonely, but not empty. The clouds asked for the girl’s help in drawing pictures of them, so they could be shared with others, and so the girl gave a small piece of herself to the clouds. 

And on and on this went until the girl had nothing left to give. But this was confusing, because she had always been told that the more you give, the more you’ll have, so how could she have run out of ways to give? The girl liked giving, but Shadow did not. Because the girl had shared so many listenings with Shadow, Shadow was feeling too full, and the girl felt terrible for this and so she told Shadow to give her back all the listenings. Shadow did, feeling immediately relieved, but not empty. 

But now the girl had too many voices in her head and some of them were tangling with her own voice and she felt as though she was losing herself. And her head was full, but every other part of her felt empty. She no longer cared to listen and she resented Shadow for sticking close by, but not offering to take any of the listenings back. And Shadow warned her not to fill her head with more listenings because it was hurting her more than it was helping others, but the girl didn’t like Shadow’s advice, and it forced her to ask the question: Is full better than empty? No, it simply couldn’t be. Surely empty is better than full. And so the girl had convinced herself that feeling full was the worst feeling of all. And she tried not to take in any more sound, but sometimes it entered without her permission, and that was so overwhelming that she cried and her tears formed a puddle at her feet. And the puddle became a creek, and the creek became a river, and the river became a lake, and the lake became an ocean, and the ocean became the sky, and she couldn’t tell if she was sinking or floating or both or neither. And then she saw the moon reflected in her ocean of tears and she said, “Moon, I listened to the voices of nature and I feel more lonely and more empty than before.” 

And the Moon said, “That sometimes happens. You must go back and listen again.” 

And so the girl went back and she listened to the wind. And the wind said to her, “I can help you keep going when you want to stop.” And so the wind pushed the girl gently forward because the steps were too hard to take by herself. And the girl realized that she didn’t feel so lonely anymore. 

Then the girl went back to listen to the trees, and the trees said, “Look at the seeds you planted. They are starting to sprout and soon they will be tall like us and strong like you. Thank you.” And the girl realized that the gratitude the trees felt for her was matched by the gratitude she felt for the trees, and so she didn’t feel quite so empty anymore. 

Lastly, the girl went back to listen to the clouds, but she didn’t recognize them because they had changed shape again. And the clouds said to her, “You helped us remember that we could be something different without forgetting any part of what we used to be.” And the girl realized that she had changed too, but on the inside. And it wouldn’t have been possible if she hadn’t felt lonely or empty or any of the other hard feelings first. And as she gave a piece of herself to the wind and the trees and the clouds, they all gave her something in return. And really, it wasn’t called giving. It was called sharing. And that night when the moon was full, she looked up and smiled, and the moon smiled back.