To fall down a hole
25 May, 2009
There is nothing I would rather do than fall down a hole.
High-sided, shadowed, a glimpse of the sky and nothing of
the world beyond. I would press myself into the warm, damp
earth, breathe in the ancient decay and wait to be absorbed
into the black, deep vastness. My skin would swell and
crack, the soil falling into the spaces, become a part of
me. Slowly, I could close my eyes, with a last glance at
the patch of light, feeling the earth, enveloping, heavy,
caught in my hair.
When I fallen down this hole, I will welcome it. I will
know I have fulfilled my destiny. I have been searching for
this hole, this gap in the warm, damp earth, ever since I
knew I had been born. Ever since I became aware of my
existence. In a way, I have living down inside the hole all
of my life. I just need to find it.
I used to think that I could dig it, this hole that would
make me. I thought I could cleave apart the soft ground
with my hands and make the crack into which I would
descend. That I could push apart the layer that separates
me from myself and my destiny and fall into the deep
vastness. But I realised that was not right. It would not
be the right hole. I would not be right for it. This hole
must already exist, and we must find each other.
I must again begin my quest, my quest for the hole. I have
spent years not even looking for it, believing perhaps that
it does not exist, that I do not need it. I believed
perhaps that to fall down and be absorbed into the warm,
damp earth is not, has not always been, my destiny. I
thought the hole might be a dream, a creation of my
tortured imagination. I thought that I would live without
it. Now I know that cannot be true. I have to find it.
When I find it, I will not have to think or feel anymore. I
will no longer have to think of the world beyond. Just the
warm, damp earth. Just the soil caught in my hair and the
last glance at the patch of light above me. Then I will
know that the wait is over and I can finally leave
everything behind.