Nothing Matters: Final Reading

In my first reading of nothing, I affirm that nothing matters, as a complement to the supposition that everything matters, supposing further that there is nothing that does not matter if and when it serves an end, whether that end be a need, a goal, a value, or an interest.

In my second reading of nothing, I point to the ways in which nothing matters: nothing, through its perception in relation to something, alerts us to the presence of need; offers the promise of value; provides a contrast by which to appreciate an object of value; and invites a response to participate in value, and to contribute an object of value.

In my third reading of nothing, in which nothing matters, I suppose that nothing could only matter for two reasons: it is relevant to some purpose and it is significant for some reason. I cite oblivion and enlightenment as two examples of nothing, concluding that both have relevance and significance.

From these readings, I come to the conclusion that nothing is always relative to something, and that the perception of nothing can only ever be made known in relation to something relevant and significant.

Now suppose I forget about myself and move in no particular direction, with no particular intention of having any particular outcome, of being, having, doing, and becoming nothing, where oblivion and enlightenment fuse, and manifest together, in harmony, with no obsession, and without compulsion.

Could such a fusion, in and of and by itself, matter? Let us imagine how we might incorporate such a fusion.

Oblivion is a complete loss of memory, and from such a loss, no action with a purpose is possible. Enlightenment, on the other hand, is a state of mind by which action in response to a purpose can be taken without awareness of any memory that serves this purpose. In either case, nothing is recalled.

If, as a general rule, I move in no particular direction, it might be that I have completely forgotten everything I know about how moving in a particular direction is even relevant or significant to anything I do. And if, as general rule, I have no particular outcome in mind as I take action, it might be that I have released all awareness of any memory that serves any purpose I have. In having no particular intention (not even the intention to move in no particular direction, with no particular intention of having any particular outcome), I forget everything I know about which way to go even as I rely on memory without any awareness of it.

In light of this fusion of oblivion with enlightenment, could anything I have, think, feel, say, or do, matter?

Nothing Matters: Third Reading

Nothing matters, but in what way could nothing matter?

Suppose for a moment that no thing is real and then suppose for a moment that nothing is real.

These two suppositions are distinct: the first (no thing is real) would have us consider that all things are mere patterns of energy, projections of the mind made manifest through the senses of sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell, which are themselves the result of a thing that is both pattern and projection.

The second supposition (nothing is real) would have us consider nothing by having us stop the mind completely, bearing in mind that seeking can be a form of grasping or controlling, which would preclude any further stopping. If we're capable and wise, we might be a mirror and bring the mind to a stop, perhaps with eyes closed, body at rest, in a place saturated with perfect silence; we would neither seek to stop the mind nor would we seek not to stop the mind.

In light of these suppositions, how could nothing matter? Or, how could anything matter? If I move in a certain direction, with a certain intention of having a certain outcome, something matters. And it could only matter in two ways: it is relevant to some purpose and it is significant for some reason.

Nothing matters to those who would avoid the punishment of oblivion for evil deeds committed. At a certain level of personal development, nothing is both relevant to some purpose (being a good person, having faith in a source of goodness, performing good deeds) and significant for some reason (serves as a reminder of what can happen when you stop caring about others, lose faith in a source of goodness, and perform evil deeds).

Nothing matters to those who would welcome the stillness and silence that attends a profound sense of peace in the present moment. At a certain level of personal development, nothing is both relevant to some purpose (allowing silence to surround you, attending to a profound sense of peace, basking in the stillness of the present moment) and significant for some reason (serves as a reminder of what can happen when you make time to be).

At one level of personal development, it is perfectly understandable why one person would resist the notions that nothing matters and that nothing matters, given that nothing is associated so strongly with a dreadful prospect of oblivion. At another level of development, it is also perfectly understandable why another person would at least consider the notions that nothing matters and that nothing matters, given that nothing is associated so strongly with the unspeakable stillness and silence of a profound peace in the present moment. I would invite each of these persons to consider the following:

(1) Nothing is always, always and forever relative to something, which means it could never subsist on its own. The cosmological Big Bang had something within it that allowed it to give birth, immediately or eventually, to the phenomena of space and time, matter and energy, sentience and awareness.

(2) The perception of nothing is always, always and forever made known in relation to something relevant and significant, which means it could never exist without relevance and significance. The intention to manifest an outcome relies on nothing and something to establish relevance and significance.

My suggestion is not this: break your association of nothing with oblivion or enlightenment. My suggestion is this: expand your notion of nothing, relative to something, to include your perception of nothing in relation to your perception of anything relevant and significant.

Nothing Matters: Second Reading

Consider: Nothing matters.

We might ask: in what way does nothing matter?

Nothing is your empty screen, your blank canvas, your uncarved block, your period of silence, your absence of touch, taste, or smell, your respite from activity, your naked body, your bare wall, your unspeakable peace in the stillness of the present moment.

Nothing matters.

Granted, and to be sure, the perception of nothing always, always and forever requires something, but nothing matters because it offers promise, the promise of something with value, of something sacred, of something unique and irreplaceable.

Nothing provides a backdrop, a means of contrast by which to appreciate that special something. I might fill a wall in my home with pictures, but if I hang but one picture, that picture acquires more relevance and significance for having been placed alone in the midst of nothing.

Nothing invites a response. When I see an empty computer screen, I want to write. When I see a blank canvas, I want to paint. When I see an uncarved block, I want to sculpt. When I do nothing for too long, I want to act. Nothing invites participation and contribution.

Nothing alerts us to need and purpose. When I've had nothing to eat for too long, I get hungry. When I've had nothing to say or do for too long, I get restless. If, in the midst of activity, I've had nothing meaningful to contribute, I wonder: what is the point of this?

Nothing offers promise. Nothing provides contrast. Nothing invites participation and contribution. Nothing alerts us to need and purpose.

What could be more important than nothing?

Nothing matters, but in what way does nothing matter?

Nothing Matters: First Reading

Nothing matters.

Three readings: (1) nothing matters; (2) nothing matters; and (3) nothing matters.

Here I am now: a body, with two hands with which to type these words; a mind, to witness two hands typing these words; a heart, to guide body and mind in the typing of these words; soul, with body, mind, and heart, to encounter, with heartfelt purpose, from sacred depths, the words I type; and spirit, with body, mind, heart, and soul, to experience, with presence and heart from heights divine, the typing of these words.

Nothing matters. This is pure negation of all that matters, a complement to the notion that everything matters.

Everything matters. This is a pure affirmation of all that matters, a complement to the notion that nothing matters.

But if I say, ultimately, nothing matters, what is to stop me from saying, ultimately, everything matters?

Nothing.

Ultimately, everything matters. But is it true?

Does manure matter? It does when it's used to grow things. Do pain and suffering matter? They do when they alert us to problems. Do silly jokes matter? They do when they dissolve tension. Do nonsense words matter? They do when they make a point.

Is there anything that does not matter?

Think of it this way: if I have a purpose, an objective, a goal, a value, an interest, a need, a desired outcome, or a desired result, then obviously, whoever or whatever can serve it, matters. Less obviously, I don't, or I can't, or I won't always know who or what does, can, or will serve one of my ends.

It might appear to me that someone or something cannot or will not serve one of my ends.

Scratch the surface, though, and I might find otherwise.