SAVING NOTHING.

............................. by Stanley

.....I am obsessional about backing-up my work on the computer. In the early days I had some nasty experiences where, at the touch of a wrong key, I lost some magnum opus I had been working on - a terrible sinking feeling when a whole thing just disappeared into cyberspace – gone! The loss was particularly appalling when I had written a passage or a turn of phrase that was just right. I knew that it having vanished I would never, never be able to produce it again. It was a sickening sensation of loss.
....Of course, I have no doubt that this was an entirely hubristic fantasy brought on solely by the vanishing, making the job I had lost more perfect than it really was. The fact of its disappearance magnified its impeccable aptness. Never before was such a wonderful turn of phrase ever written – and now it is lost for all time. Very much like a funeral eulogy heaped upon a deceased relative who was, after all, not all that great.
....I am sure that the last day of my life – assuming that I know it is the last and that I am still in reasonable shape – will be the most perfect day of my life. At least, that’s the way I’m imagining it. Why would I picture it like this? Because I know that the absolutely valuable is always on the verge of loss. It’s why we cry at something overwhelmingly beautiful. The exquisite always has the taste of nostalgia because we imagine ourselves looking back on it when it is gone.
....Or the darker side told by Macbeth that life is a tale “told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing’. The romantic agony is that things must pass away, the flower must fade, beauty must turn to dust and all those poetic conceits.
....But deeper than the thief of time is something more philosophical, metaphysical, existential or something. I’m sure the mystics were right in saying that in the heart of being is nothingness. The ‘plenum’, the empty fullness, they called it - that out of which all creation arose.
....I don’t want to get all spiritual and start pontificating about things that can’t be talked about, but there is a very practical sense in which all this touches our lives. It’s interesting that a person who is depressed will say in a few simple words the way they feel: ‘There’s nothing, absolutely nothing’, they will say – meaning there is nothing in life. And, in a sense, this is absolutely true. And it is a truth that cannot be avoided. In fact, if you run away from it, it will bite you in the bum – like when the stuff on my computer vanished down the gurgler; or when you wake up in the morning sick with dread at the meaninglessness of another day.
.....Whenever you hit the blues you will find yourself being terribly ‘negative’ – the greatest sin in popular culture. But more we try to be ‘positive’ the more the Great Nothingness threatens to swallow us in unguarded moments.
.....No, we have to do the exact opposite – we have to save nothing.
.....There is a very precise felt-sense, like a physical sensation, at the heart of a bluesy mood. Elusive, because one is so used to avoiding it or trying to chase it away. But if you concentrate you’ll find it there. Sit down with it for a while, tune into it, get in touch and have it. Don’t think or get distracted, just tune in to the felt-sense of it, stay with it for a while without doing anything about it, and you will find the mood will shift. Save the nothing and, amazingly enough, something creative will come out of it.
.....Many times I’ve caught myself at a loose end looking around for something to do. On the face of it, that’s quite OK. But there was a sort of background tension behind it; and when I looked a bit closer there was a vague feeling of fear, noticeable enough to make me sit down and focus on it. What came out was a memory of childhood, of being utterly, desperately, frantically bored.
.....I’m the only child. It’s Sunday afternoon and all the grown ups have had a big Sunday roast dinner. Now everybody is having a sleep for Gods sake and I am suppose to be quite. I am utterly and frantically bored because there is nothing to do. But ‘bored’ isn’t quite right because it’s such a frantic feeling. It’s as though I am faced with immanent death – The Big Nothing. And I will do anything, anything, not to experience that – even now!
.....That’s a little bit of me I’ve rescued from oblivion, paradoxically by saving nothing.