The Delicious Feel of Nothing

I thought about nothing on vacation. Nothing is “pure”: no anxiety, angst, or agitation about “What’s next?” I disconnected from social media, and gasp, my blog. I was tethered to nothing.

Nothing was in my hand to swipe, type, beep, or ring some obnoxious (hardly clever) ring tone. No notifications or likes. Nothing was nice. My hands were no longer a vessel for communication. I had nothing hands!

My nothing hands were intertwined with my children’s, my husband’s. Our nothing hands pointed to sights, covered our laughing mouths, and waved in excitement during our long, awaited adventure.

My nothing hands gratefully wrapped around a cup of French pressed coffee, delicately held flute of Champagne, and gave a “Two Thumbs Up” to  my new thing, a Moscow Mule. My nothing hands toasted my father to celebrate Father’s Day on the first night of vacation.

My nothing hands helped me enjoy my hobbies: My nothing hands turned the pages of an engaging book. The  callouses on my nothing hands hugged my daughters Good Morning  after my covert,  quick, calculated, obstacle course training, morning workouts.

My nothing hands clenched for dear life on a rope obstacle course I completed with my mom. My nothing hands furiously clapped during the show my husband and I enjoyed on my birthday.

My nothing hands relaxed while I enjoyed a facial. My mind was so full of nothing that I feared I would fall asleep and snore! That would be something and nothing but funny!

My nothing hands held my babies in the peaceful, blue sea.

My nothing hands hugged my family tight. We should be so lucky to celebrate nothing again.

I recommend everyone to disconnect and imbibe on a mix on nothing.