Do I feel too much — or nothing at all?

Hollow

Invitation In
Do I feel too much — or nothing at all?

Whisper

Some days, the body is a room with the windows shut.
Not dark, exactly—
just distant.
A soft absence where feeling should be.

You try to reach for something inside
and find silence.
No fire. No ache. Just
the strange quiet of being hollow.

But maybe
this isn’t emptiness.
Maybe it’s a waiting place.
A pause after too much.
A breath the body took
because it had to.

Let this hollow be sacred.
Not a failure,
not a flaw—
a signal.

You haven’t gone missing.
You’ve gone quiet.
And that, too,
is a form of care.

What This Might Be

Feeling hollow can be disorienting.
You might wonder: Shouldn’t I feel something?
But often, hollow is a gentle shutdown —
the nervous system dimming the lights
to prevent a surge.

This isn’t disconnection.
It’s pause.
It’s the space your body made
to protect what was tender.

Questions to Carry

• What does “hollow” feel like in me?

• Where do I notice this absence — in sensation, feeling, or attention?

• What helps me stay present with myself, even when I feel far away?

Gesture of Care

The Gentle Knock
Sit or lie down in a quiet space.
Bring your attention to the hollow place — the chest, the belly, the blank space.

Place your hand there softly.
Breathe.

Then ask, with kindness:

“Is anyone in there?”

You’re not trying to fix anything.
Just showing up.
Like knocking gently on a door
you’ve been afraid to open.

Grace

Hollow is not the absence of life.
It’s the space being cleared
for something new to arrive.

If you don’t feel anything yet,
that’s okay.
You’re not behind —
you’re here.