Yesterday I emptied my apartment and took off on a four month road trip.
I once asked the livery manager at the Center for Wooden Boats what she liked about sailing.
“It empties me,” Elena said. “No matter what I am worried about or obsessing over, when I go sailing, it empties me out.”
“And what do you get when you are empty?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, looking somewhat puzzled, “It’s just empty.”
Yesterday, I emptied my apartment, left the keys on the counter, looked back. A quick rush of tears for what I do not know.
Took off to give myself to this discovery, this wondering, on what happens with empty.