Coarse sunlight

For as long as I can remember, the cliff has been there. Dark, deep and chilling. Like a notorious enemy. Like a dreaded demon. But at the same time the ravine felt also very also familiar, amicable, sure. Like a good friend, like a caring angel.

That's how it once started. How on one day I came to a standstill right in front of the precipice. After walking along the abyss for days, weeks, months and years. Looking for the other side. Searching for a road, a bridge, a connection. But all I found was the darkness, the depth, the horrifying. Like a raw, open wound.

I still remember it very well. How on one morning I finally realized. This is it. That there is no road, no bridge, no connection. How rebellious I got. How evil, furious, poisonous. How I started screaming, cursing. Against the unknown, against the great gaping hole. How I fought to accept it. How I struggled to understand that my life would end from now on. Since there was no view. No future, horizon. Because there were no dream, no desires.

Those were the days that I roared, sniffled, cried, screamed. But it were also the nights when I fell asleep every evening. At first I dreamed of new vistas, of colorful mornings. Later I came to accept the arid days, resigned myself to the parched nights. The abyss became less and less an enemy, an opponent. More often I spontaneously started talking to the canyon. As if she were an acquaintance, a neighbor, a companion, a soul mate.

Did I have another choice? Should I have chosen to start travelling again? To start looking afresh for a way, a bridge, a connection? But over the years I discovered that I came to love the strange darkness, that mysterious depth. So that little by little I began to understand her. My holy chasm. At first the gorge evoked images of fear and desperation. But later I realized that I had been mistaken. The gully was not an emptiness. The gulch was the end of a beginning. A resignation, a calmness, a surrender.

And just as unexpectedly as I ever ran into the chasm, I wake up one morning, to find myself facing rough sunlight. Big, clumsy and inexperienced, the rays fall on my pale face, my weak hands, my limp body. The only thing I did was to turn around. Where I've been looking straight ahead over the cliff all these years. Like a pillar of salt, like a carpenter's son on a cross. Now I blink and see how a wide range of bright colors spreads over the fresh horizon.

I immediately feel the urge to turn away from this new view. To keep my eyes on my friend, my soulmate again. The gorge, the abyss. But I can't do it anymore. I am too delighted, too amazed at what I find. And as the sun slowly separates itself from the horizon, I let the crude rays fall on my life. A downpour of light and warmth.

I'm not crazy. I also know what is happening. But why? And why now? After all those gray days, after all those musty years. Just when I've come to love it so much. The silence, the emptiness, the calmness. Just when I've come to terms with the fact that nothing more is required of me. That time is like languid blood moving indifferently and drowsily through a lukewarm body.

I realize I have to make a choice. But at the same time I also know that there is no choice. After all, I feel how my heart is racing inside me like an over active drummer of the local brass band. I feel my fingers itch, my fingers tingle. Is this what they call existence?

I turn around and see the gap. Calm, waiting and silent in the late morning light. Where before I abhorred the depth, worshiped the darkness. Now I observe the colossal boulders, the soft moss, the glint of morning dew on the heather and can only smile.

The thought crosses my mind that I have to say goodbye. To the ravine, the abyss. Because I'm so attached to her? Because she has been so defining to me for such a long time? But I’m in a hurry. All of a sudden I realize that time is like the rough sunshine. Precious, beloved. So I pack my stuff, sling the bag over my shoulder and hit the road. And I believe. The sunlight may be coarse. It will be a matter of time before it will be refined, delicate and pure.