the well

originally published february 3, 2021

I went to the well today.

I was parched.

I needed a drink.

My skin was dirty.

I needed to become clean.

I didn’t bring my bucket.

Leaving in the midst of anxiety

makes you forget necessities.

When I arrived to the well,

I saw a dozen people.

They were unfamiliar to me.

But I noticed.

They had gathered

in a way that made them

seem akin to one another.

I hesitated to approach the well.

(even though I knew how desperately I needed the water)

You see anxiety does that too,

makes you think you don’t belong

even when you have no clue if

there is a thing to belong to.

I took a deep breath,

feeling some of the heaviness dissipate.

In the brief moment of lightness,

I took a step and then another.

It took everything in me not to

turn back around-

thirsty and dirty, but seemingly safe.

One foot

in front

of the other.

Before I knew it,

I had arrived to the well.

the circle opened to let me in.

I approached the well,

no bucket in hand,

full of trepidation,

standing there

staring down into the abyss.

Tears silently streamed

down my flushed cheeks.

Then I felt it,

a hand

on my shoulder.

Warm, gentle, steady.

The person handed me a bucket,

and together we worked to bring

water from the abyss.

Quenching, cleansing, healing water.

I went to the well today,

maybe tomorrow I won’t be so scared.