It seems as though I always feel a heavy emptiness at the end of a journey. Once I have reached a destination, a place seems to open up inside me, a place that is lacking in everything, a place that is just pure emptiness. Of course there are the feelings of joy and relief that accompany that moment when an achievement is finally reached. Those are the expected emotions. Those are the feelings that others can understand. But what about all the other feelings? What about a sense of being lost, of wandering about, wondering where to go next? People generally do not talk about those feelings, and yet those are the feelings that linger long after the joy and relief have subsided.

The truth is that I am not really at the end of a journey in my life right now; I am actually more still in the middle of the journey. And yet I am experiencing that sense of lost empty space within me, and I am trying to figure out what it means, and what I should do with it. Maybe it's the stillness of the winter, the white blanket of snow laid out before me, just sitting there with no movement, that makes me feel this vastness of space inside that needs to be filled. Maybe it's the fact that this part of my journey is coming to an end in the next 6 months, and this is a journey that has taken more than 10 years of my life. Maybe it's just the simple fact of living on a secluded farm nearly 1000 miles from my family and friends. Or maybe it's a bit of all of this, or perhaps even none of it. Maybe it doesn't really matter why I feel this emptiness. Maybe it is only the emptiness itself that means something.

I don't know what to do with the emptiness. I know the things that I enjoy doing, and I do them. But the emptiness persists. I can read book after book and crochet 5 afghans and the emptiness lingers underneath the words and yarn. My body is exhausted and I sleep, and yet I wake and the emptiness awakens with me. I dig as far below the surface as I dare for the spark of new creative stirrings, and yet I come up time and time again with nothing.

I know that a part of the emptiness is a part of my depression. And I know that part of the depression is related to the physical ailments that continue to plague me. But the emptiness feels greater than all of that. It feels like more than a symptom of depression or a consequence of my bodily discomfort. The emptiness feels more existential than all of that.

Some people might say I should just sit with the empty space and allow itself to eventually fill on its own. And perhaps that is the best solution. Others might say I should search harder for the source of the emptiness. Again, that may be the best path. I can sit here and run through the possibilities in my mind, and I can ask myself endless questions and try out any variety of options in an attempt to alleviate the emptiness. I know all of this; I just do not have the energy or motivation to do any of it.

As a new year approaches, I know that I want changes in my life. I know that I do not want to feel this stagnant emptiness continue. I know that I want to be that person who embraces each moment of life, who lives in spiritual and emotional abundance, who savors every taste of the world around me. I just don't know how to get there.