The Void Within: How Facing Emptiness Can Set Us Free

The remarkable story of what happens when you allow yourself to feel lonely.

Adele once said she loves to dwell in her melancholy. I feel like we must be neighbors. It makes sense why, ever since I was a little girl with a dream to sing, they signed me up for sad songs. They said I had just the right expression to convey pain. It insulted me because I wanted to escape my inner pain as much as possible.

Today, when I look back at my life, I realize I did not even have to have that phase of putting up posters of My Chemical Romance. I lived in emotional melancholy as far back as I can remember. As a teenager, I thought it romantic. And in a way, it is. Unlike those who aren’t wired the same way, we genuinely thrive in this slower, almost lethargic emotional state because we know how to find grace in it. Grace, I’ve learned, can be found in almost anything. Almost.

This is why it’s so difficult for some people to step out of the state where they are drowning in their pity, shame, guilt, or low self-esteem. These feelings are common and valid human experiences; they make this world feel more real.

The most beautiful poems and literary works were written by those who knew how to suffer. Uff, that’s a tough statement—I know. But when you look at the biggest names in classic literature and the reflection of their painful artistry, you realize their lives were far from perfect. This pain, this madness, made their names immortal, and we’ve even come to appreciate their suffering. But at what cost? And where were they creating from?

It took me years to understand the moods I would occasionally slip into—the ones where I wanted to hide from the whole world, yet felt lonelier than the ugly duckling. The random panic attacks in the middle of the night. My inexplicable fear of taking afternoon naps because waking up just as the sky darkened would give me the nastiest feeling. I never questioned why. I just went with it. Everyone has something, don’t they?

And here’s the sad truth: I believe, to some degree, we all share this common fear—the fear of nothingness. The subtle feeling we’re somewhat born with, unaware of in our early years, but as we grow older and our lives take shape, we start to notice it. Like a shadowy roommate, it pretends not to exist, but we see glimpses of it—its remnants, its trace. This place, so well known to the artists, is called the Void.

Carl Jung once said that a human cannot have direct contact with God because such contact would result in absolute annihilation.

It took me time to grasp what he meant. Of course, the Source is loving and life-giving. But since the Source is everything, wouldn’t that mean it is also death? It felt as though Jung was hinting at something even more profound than death—an absolute annihilation. A state beyond death.

If you believe in death as a transition from one realm to another, then death pales in comparison to encountering God. In my favorite Near-Death Experience (NDE) podcasts, two recurring themes appear:

1. People rarely see the eyes of God. They might meet a guide, an angel, or a passed relative. If they sense God’s presence, it’s often behind them. Many feel afraid to turn around because of the overwhelming power emanating from that presence. Are they afraid because they instinctively know what it would mean?

2. A few report negative NDEs, often involving a place called The Void. This Void is an abyss of darkness—so profound that it absorbs any trace of light. It’s not just death; it’s a place beyond our comprehension. The more one fights it, the more isolated they feel. Until…they let go. And then, light emerges.

I’ve personally encountered the Void, most vividly during sleep paralysis as a child. The fear is indescribable. But six years ago, something shifted. One night, I let the Void press harder on my lungs, nearly suffocate me like a cold, unrelenting blanket. I let it paralyze me. Then, something incredible happened—I sat up and realized I wasn’t in my body. A classic astral projection. And so what seemed like a punishment, the end, was a liberating agent, a new beginning.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

I. THE INNATE VOID

• What is the Void?

• Why do we run away from it?

• Coping with the Void

• The Void and the Buddha

• Indulgence vs. Addiction

II. THE BEAUTY OF THE VOID

• The Path to Wholeness

• Loving the darkness, not overcoming it

• Becoming the darkness

• The Guardian of the Void

III. HOW TO EMBRACE THE EMPTINESS TO BE FREE

I. The Innate Void

What I’m about to propose might sound daring—or nonsensical—and that’s okay. It’s something I’ve been contemplating for a while, and it clicked for me recently as I read Gabor Maté’s In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts. Maté hints that we’re all born with an innate void within us. As we encounter the world, vibrant and beautiful as it may be, it’s also cold and cruel. Our minds, wired for survival, fabricate narratives to their negative perspective, and so trauma becomes nearly inevitable—even for those from seemingly “normal” households.

But most of us didn’t grow up in normal households. Most of us faced loss and fear early on, in one form or another. The Void was there, lurking under our beds, in the dark corners of our closets, and in the recesses of our memories.

Please, do not think I enjoy being in that space now. Just writing this article took me a moment to emotionally get ready for and then there was that neverending - should I?

But here’s what I’ve recently realized: the Void is what we’re all searching for, even though we have no idea we do.