When Nothing Feels Like Everything

 When Nothing Feels Like Everything

By Fong Muntoh

Some days arrive without noise.
No big emotions. No decisions to make. Just... air. And yet, the weight of it presses softly on the chest, like a blanket you didn’t ask for.

Today is one of those days.

Nothing is wrong, and yet nothing feels quite right. I move through the motions—respond to emails, smile at familiar faces, walk the corridors of the care centre like I always do. But inside, there’s a strange silence. Not numb, not sad. Just a stillness that hums.

And I’ve come to understand—these are not empty days.

These are the in-between moments. The pauses between one storm and the next. The eye of the emotional cyclone. When everything inside you is quiet, but watching. Feeling everything but calling it “nothing.”

In caregiving, in leadership, in simply being human—there are days where we carry invisible things. We absorb others’ worries, questions, small disappointments. We hold back our own, waiting for a better time to speak them. And in that process, we lose track of what we’re actually feeling. Until the stillness catches up to us, and we’re forced to notice it.

And it’s okay.
Sometimes stillness is just a soul’s way of breathing.

So today, I allow the quiet.
I let the nothingness be.
Because maybe, in the quietest moments, we are closest to truth.
Because maybe, when nothing feels like everything—it actually is.