What the Void Actually Produces

I spent over a year in the void after Peru.

In the void, thoughts had to be conjured up because they did not arrive on their own. The mind was blank — not like depressed blankness, more like the eyes were seeing but nothing was creating meaning inside. I would sit and wait for a thought and sometimes nothing came. Just the room. Just the light. Just the fact of being alive without any story attached to it.

The only emotion I experienced over the year was grief. Not sharp grief with a reason behind it. Just a low constant presence of it, like weather that does not change. Every day something would strip away — a memory, a belief, something I had felt or built or decided about myself — and then it would simply leave. Not fade. Leave. I would write it down so I could return to it. When I did, there was nothing attached to it anymore. Just the visual of the event itself. No emotion. No meaning. Like watching footage of someone else’s life through a window.

I wrote every day that year. Not about anything meaningful. About what I did. What I ate. Where I went. The living activities of each day. That was all there was to write about because that was all there was.

There came a point where I had to keep telling myself — quietly, daily, without drama — you have to come out of this. Over and over until something in me finally listened.

What pulled me out was not a decision. It was a pull back to Peru. I did not analyze it or try to create some kind of meaning or ritual around it. I simply created a retreat and took people with me. That was the first thing in over a year that felt like direction.

1.5 years after the void began, I started to feel alive again.

What I understand now — what I could not have understood while I was inside it — is that the void was not empty. It was the most thorough clearing I have ever experienced. Not healing. Not processing. Not working through anything. Just removal. Everything that was not actually mine being lifted out until what remained was only what was true.

What came out the other side was not a higher version of myself. It was the truest one.

And with the truest self came something I had never felt so cleanly before.

Creation energy.

Not motivation. Motivation requires strategy, planning, effort. You get excited about something and then you have to build the scaffolding to make it happen. It needs a plan. It needs pushing.

Creation energy is different. It is pure energy — no emotions, no thoughts, just flow. You are one with what you are making. Everything is simple and easy. There is pure direction and pure knowing. Nothing gets in the way. It is blissful in the most undramatic sense of that word — not ecstatic, not performed. Just completely without resistance.

The void produced this. Not immediately. Not dramatically. Slowly — after everything that was not mine had been removed — what remained was a woman who could create from a completely clear source.

I paint from that place now. I write from it. I do soul work from it. When I am in it the canvas does not fight me. The words arrive without effort. The knowing is instant and clean.

Most women I know are exhausted from motivating themselves. From building the scaffolding, executing the strategy, pushing through the resistance. That exhaustion is real. But it is also information. It is telling you that you are working from the wrong source.

Creation energy does not require pushing. It requires clearing.

The void is how that clearing happens.

Always emerging from yesterday.