The Way to the Well

{inner landscape journey}

I found myself there, alone in the middle of the vast plain. A warm, gentle breeze blew through my hair, and the sky was bright and blue. I had lost my way and was unsure of what to do next. Although flat, the ground rippled beneath my feet like a gentle tide. Even with the disconcerting softness of the undulation, the liquid movement of the ground made me dizzy. I felt the need to look for a solid base. I found a rock up ahead. I walked towards it uncertainly, but instead of getting closer, it seemed further away. Balancing on the wavy ground was a challenge. It required slow walking and an intent direction.

Eventually, I reached the rock where I thought I would feel safe. I climbed onto it, the rough stone warmed by the sun in contact with my skin. Once up there, I felt lost again. All I could see from there was a rolling plain all around me. Was I alive? Was the plain alive? The warm breeze continued to blow, and when I looked at the centre of the rock, I saw a well. Deep. Deep. Deep. Dark. Dark. Dark. Not that way! I gasped urgently. But as soon as I saw it, I was deep inside. I’ve fallen into the vertical rock tunnel. Plunged. Dry, exhausted, and empty. Hard, massive, heavy walls. A bottom of rock and earth, deep in dense shadows. I scream, but no sound comes out. I hear the breeze up there, the distant and bright up there. I shout again in silence. No sound. Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Just the oppressive weight of the bottomless, dry pit. Silent.

I take a profound breath. But I still feel the urgency to get out. After aeons of being immobilised here, a gentle human hand suddenly emerges from the ground. A female hand, soiled and muddy. A helping hand that calls out to me. An echo of support that asks me for silence. Suspended between sighs, I give her my hand. We squeeze tightly, and she sucks me into the earth. Inside. Inside. Inside. In a swift, skin-tight journey. A visceral movement through the ground. Everything around me weighs tons, and I can't breathe. Rocks, earth, and roots rush past. Suddenly, light again, so bright that it dazzles my eyes.

Now, I find myself here again. The breeze blows my hair on the plain of the undulating ground. The soil’s palpitation matches my heart rhythm. Now, I'm in the shade of a small tree, and despite its incessant movement, this ground anchors me. I'll climb the rock again because I know where the well is.