The Weight of Nothing

to end with nothing is something Suvan Geer or to rephrase a popular Billy Preston song, “somethin’ from nothin’ is somethin’” I everyone loves the disappearing coin. a bird pulled from an empty hat. the comfort of trusting a magician’s hands. when we know we’ll get some- thing from what he takes away. II the student’s assignment— concentrate on nothing for fifteen minutes a day. she tries to empty her head but can’t figure out how. after all, she doesn’t know what nothing sounds or looks like, and the teacher won’t give the slightest clue. yet she’s got a good hunch the exercise might quiet all that shriek and clatter trapped between her ears. so like a good pupil, she devotes an entire year searching for nothing. some days she’s as still as a stone, but can’t escape the distractions of river and wind, footsteps approaching, birds calling in the trees overhead. or closing her eyes, she’ll focus on a cloudless blue sky. pillows and planes and purple sunsets keep interrupting. she silently repeats words like ocean or why, chants sounds that dwell low in her throat like maah and uhmm. at year’s end her teacher asks if she’s found nothing. she tells him she’s found everything but nothing. he smiles,you’recloser than you think