The Chinese military writer Sun Tzu often walked eloquent (and obscurely) about the importance of voids, and about how wise generals and leaders attacked voids rather than seeking the place where an army was the strongest.  While it would seem obvious that one would want to attack a void (where there is no defense or presence) rather than a strongly defended point, the obviousness of the point does not always lead the proper sort of preparation to make sure that there are no weak points, or that any apparent void is in reality closely watched, and is in fact a trap to lure one’s enemy into defeat (a common Mongol tactic, it should be noted).

For reasons that I’m not entirely sure, though I understand in part, I have a native inclination to work against the crowd, to seek the fields and areas that are being neglected and overlooked in favor of more popular ones.  There is some internal desire to escape the crowd and find the empty space, the neglected part of affairs whose neglect is important to rectify.  It puzzles me why most people, even those who tend to think about the big picture, rarely seem to understand that the most necessary place to be is the most empty, that what is said by everyone scarcely needs to be mentioned by anyone else, but that one needs to find the perspective or area that is being neglected or ignored and promote it, so that the void ceases to be so, so that there can be wholeness and balance again in a person, organization, or society.

It is that sense of the greater balance, of seeking to go against the grain, even if it means (as it often means) standing alone against irrational masses of people, that is one of the more consistent and maddening aspects of my existence.  Nonetheless, I don’t believe that this particular quality is without importance, because someone has to do it, and if no one else does it, then I will, as if I have done so many times before and without a doubt will do many times still to come.  If it were already being done, to my knowledge, I would not be drawn to duplicate such efforts.  I guess you could say I am drawn to the void, by instinct.  It’s a frightening thing, sometimes.

Nonetheless, such an inclination as I possess requires an accurate knowledge of what everyone else is interested in, to find what truly are the sorts of things that no one else wishes to do or sees the need of.  It is ironic, perhaps, that to fill the voids one needs to be deeply connected with other people to realize precisely what gaps are being left, and to fill them.  Additionally, if other people with that same inclination could be found (it’s not easy) then it might be possible to create a network of people who “stand in the gap” and are equipped mentally and emotionally (and spiritually) to man the most deserted posts to preserve what we hold dear.

Such a noble responsibility requires a great deal of patience for being overlooked by those who are only interested in looking at what is on everyone’s mind and in everyone’s attention, but the nobility of a task is not determined by its popularity, and might require someone who was particularly ill-disposed to be popular in the first place.  Nonetheless, it requires someone with sufficient concern for others (even if not their approval) that someone is willing to suffer scorn for being different while serving their benefit anyway.  Ultimately speaking, that sort of concern cannot come but from beyond one’s own self.  It’s rather sobering to reflect on the great gulf present between what is commonly acted on and what is necessary and vital.  Someone has to fill that void.