At 4:30am I sat at the bottom of a well. The well is a dark place. I couldn’t see my hands. I touched my own body just to know I still existed. I spoke softly to hear my own voice. And only the walls of the deep, deep well could hear me.
In the darkness, I could no longer see with my eyes. I saw with other things. With logic, with faith, with thought. I saw things differently in total darkness.
I spoke to myself. But to another version of myself. An unsure person who sat inside me, who was sad, restless, tired, scared. I asked him questions and he make answers. Together, we spoke about love, loss. About giving up, about death. We spoke about the world and all of the people in the world.
The bottom of the well is suffocating at first. When I started to see things without my eyes, I wasn’t sure if my sight was trying to harm or help me. When I spoke, I wasn’t sure if the voice (a voice of honest secrecy) would tell me the things I wanted to hear.
I became used to the well. My eyes slowly adjusted. I could make out the shapes of my hands, and each time I waved them, it felt like I swirled a smokey patch of darkness.
The dark made everything clear to me. The darks outside was just like the darkness inside, and I was the light. I dared to walk inside myself. Into the well of my very being. I walked inside and I saw without my eyes. I asked myself what feared me so much. I explained to myself exactly what it was. The experience was cathartic, but slightly unsettling. Almost surgery in the dark. I was helping me, but perhaps dangerously. I wasn’t sure if I could rely on this method.
But the well is simply a hole in the ground. It is a place where water should be, but my well appeared to be dried up. Why was that? Why could I crawl into my dry well? Where did all the water go? The substance, the source of life?
I crawled in with hopes of digging deeper. I dug down lower in hopes to strike the water again. And no, I didn’t find a torrent of liquid which pushed me out. But did find a mere trickle. A small token of hope that there is still work to be done but I am slowly filling the well again.