Usually I feel writing inside of me, and I sit down and I write, tonight, I feel this strong urge to write, but stare at an empty page. I have scoured all my notes and scribbled thoughts and nothing is clicking… which maybe is my topic. After all, my favorite show (Seinfeld) is a show about nothing.
I guess right now, nothing, is where it all is. In between something and who knows what. It may also be defined as contentment. I do not feel the need to fight furiously for something or the need to change something.
Life is just plain good. And good does not necessarily write funny stories or passionate pleas. Contentment is a cool summer night after a productive day of work. Contentment is laughter. Contentment is being in the middle of a good book, knowing it is not going to end for a while and I just get to be with these characters for a while. It is not needing to have my life figured out.
Contentment is taking 5 different facebook quizzes that tell me everything I already know about myself. Can you imagine if they told me something different? What a crisis I would be in right now!
Contentment is knowing there is a lot of crappy things happening out there. A lot of things that will anger me, and upset me and fire me up, but on this night, just having peace with where I am in the world.