A void could be a mirror, or a blank page, or a moment of grief.

We avoid the voids, fearful of the unknown and the known but banished truths we find ourselves afraid to acknowledge.

We try to fill the voids with distraction and shame, and then cover them with a cloth like an old vintage mirror left to gather dust in the attic. 

A void could be curiosity, could be the opening of a door that we’re not sure we want to gaze into.

We might fear what emotions might exist in the eyes of whoever gazes back.

Voids exist in the invisible.

In the topics & concepts we’ve shut our eyes against.

Voids are portals to the unknown, and how human it is to fear that which we cannot fully understand. 

What would happen if we met our voids with curiosity and compassion?

If we reached in to them, aware and willing to experience the pain of their acknowledgment?

The desperation felt by the banished parts of the world that have been told implicitly that they’re not worth observing? 

What might it be like to choose courage in engaging the void anyway?