Monday, April 30, 2007

The similarities betweens mines, writing and spelunking.

Last night I dreamt that I was being forced down a mine shaft on a conveyor belt with the huge backpack we carried in Africa. Since I don't like dark tiny spaces and tend toward claustrophobia, you can understand why this would appear to be a very bad dream. But when I woke up and thought about it a bit, I thought maybe it was a reference to all the digging I'm about to begin (and that I'm procrastinating on a bit.)

Sometimes it is terrifying to really examine an experience in detail and in this circumstance, I am having trouble sort of getting my arms round it. Our trip to Africa was so mammoth in terms of what we learned and how we changed. How to distill that into words? Just begin and hack away at it a little every day?

This picture is from our tourist stop at the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. It was eerie and dank and reminded me of a great Cathedral. The ceilings towered overhead and there were huge stalagmites pointing towards heaven like weird fingers in a Dali painting. We may never get back there again, but I'm glad we made the pilgrimage. It was worth a few extra hours in the car.

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