A prayer for the Void
Solo travel, solitude & interconnection
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There have been a handful of times lately when I feel the same psychedelic sense of oneness that mushrooms or LSD might have given to me in the past. I’ll be at a busy airport or on a cramped ferry ride or witnessing people do acro yoga, and the expansive reminder will lay on me like a soft warm blanket:
We are all connected—just by each of us being here in the same place, breathing the same air, sometimes floating in the same water or standing on the same land, even seeing or hearing one another from “afar.”
This realization of connection just by co-existence has felt really potent for me on this solo travel journey that I’ve been on these last few weeks. I’ve spent a lot of time alone—at cafes and restaurants, walking in the street or on the dance floor. Yet, I haven’t felt lonely.
Part of it is that the people I’ve encountered here in Indonesia, specifically in Bali and the Gili Islands, have been so warm. Almost everyone makes eye contact with a smile, even a “Halo! How are you?” Each person has reinforced for me that eye contact, especially with a smile, is a significant and impactful point of very real connection. It’s a portal for glimmers of interdependence, or a reflective conversation, momentary fun, sometimes lasting friendship.
In Creative Sangha in The River yesterday, our theme of contemplation was The Void. To counter the typical new year hustle, we were honoring the wintering, the hibernation, darkness and slowness of the time. Even here in Indonesia, the rainy season moves me to surrender my cute plans and pause when the weather commands its space.
I’ve been intimate with the void as I’ve mostly been traveling with myself. I did have a few days with family, including my brother, Prashay, and cousins, Mayen, Karishma and Zakhna—and I experienced the contrast of having familiar company and comfort. But being primarily solo has brought me closer to the void of trusting one step at a time, making plans no more than 2 days in advance (if that), and allowing the space between me and others to be warm without necessarily filling it with assertive connection or activity.
One book I’m so grateful to have travelled with is Eternal Echoes by John O’Donohue. In it, he shares some words from artist, Anish Kapoor, as well as his own:
“‘The void is not silent. I have always thought of it more and more as a transitional space, an in-between space. It’s very much to do with time. I have always been interested as an artist in how one can somehow look again for that very first moment of creativity where everything is possible and nothing has actually happened. It’s a space of becoming.’
This middle distance is not empty; it is a vital but invisible bridge between things. Distance is necessary to sight; bring a thing too close and it blurs to invisibility. If our vision were graced and we could really see between things, we could be surprised at the secret veins of connection which join all that is separate in the one embrace.”
In the void of solo travel, I really feel the secret veins of connection that join us all to the waters, land, and the spirits in the air. I feel the fullness of “empty,” the music of mystery, and the presence of the spacious void. It brings me closer to myself as an extension and reflection of everything around me. I feel UBUNTU—I am because everything else is.
In Creative Sangha, we meditated together to give witness to the void. After that, we parallel-played with some mindful creativity, as we do in each Sangha. In that space, I wrote a prayer for the void:
*Trigger warning: violence*
Let the space between us be warm
Power to the bridges that connect us
Mycelial networks and tree root systems
communicating beneath us
Sparks of intimacy in our gazes
in our secret sacred witnessing
of one another in fleeting moments
Let the Israelis at the top of the hill celebrating
the bombings of Palestinians
fall to their knees in psychedelic realization
that they are intricately connected to every
dead baby and living relative, uncle to olive tree.
Let the plastics in the ocean choking
the dolphins and turtles wash back upon these shores
so that together we can clean up our mess.
Let us drink from the same bottle and savor
every cleansing drop while we allow
all earth creatures to savor it too.
Let us pray before the day begins,
smoke incense and make offering of flowers and rice,
inviting the well and good spirits
into every part of our day,
into every ripe possibility.
Let us light bonfires on the beach
to keep all other spirits at bay
with the light in the night.
Wrapped by the darkness of the Void,
may our vibrancy become clearer.
Embraced by the in-between alive space that is you,
may we be graced in mind, body and spirit
by your divine vital vastness.
The connection I feel in this paradise connects me even more intimately with people in places where contentment and luxury may be very far—Palestine, Congo, Sudan, Ukraine, South Africa, India, the Divided States of America, as well as the seas and oceans between us. At a very basic level, this felt-sense connection feels vital—like thread of a tapestry—for any personal, social and collective change and impact. With a full heart, I offer prayers to the void—I am sorry, please forgive me, thank you, I love you.
Dear reader, how are you relating to the void recently? Please share in the comments and consider joining a gathering in The River or in the Belonging to the Muse program.
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