Ode to Holes

Wonderful, aren't they?
Holes.
They are the beginning of something. The thing I stand above, scratching my head, often wondering what is at the bottom.
They make me dream.
They also make me nightmare.
That's the nature of holes.
They aren't all sweet little slots where you place a coin, turn the handle and wait for what you want to fall down another hole and into your waiting hands. Not all holes are vending machines. And thank God for that.
I might never have seen the beauty of life if not for holes. If not for the chance to fall into one, to desperately shine my torch light along the roof of a hole that joined forces with many holes to become a tunnel, I would never have seen the possibilities. Because that's what a hole is. You can wonder what's at the end, if you'll get to the end or if indeed there is an end, but the hole remains what it is.
The perfect  invitation.

Holes invite you to look. To search. To go places, or lead other's to places. They invite you to step down, step side ways, step around or stop. To poke your finger through or peer into the possibilities.

They invite you to notice.
The hole in your pocket. The hole in the fence. The hole in your writing. The hole in your dreams. The hole in your life, your marriage, your friendships.
Dare I say it?
The hole in your heart.

They invite questions.
Did something use to be where this hole was? Has this always been a hole or is something missing? Should I do something about the missing something?

They invite a challenge. Can I sew up the hole? bridge the hole? Climb out of the hole? Fill the hole in? Talk my way out of the hole? Or do I grab my quivering little heart full of holes and just jump right into life and all its uncertainties?

Holes make me more attentive. They make me walk around, take a different way home, take the time to talk to those I love, be more real, expose my own holes and care about the holes other people show me. They make me imperfect. They make my life imperfect. They mean I live in an imperfect world. And that my dear friends is the wonder of holes.

they say, this is not the end, it might not even be the beginning. It's just a hole. What will I do about it?
Holes invite change. Even the ones that collapse under foot and suck you in, even the ones that bleed, yes even them, they speak of possibilities.

Of course you could ignore the holes. You could. But I wouldn't. Holes have a way of still being there even with your eyes squeezed shut. I warn you though (it's only fair), holes lead to new worlds. Ask Alice who found madness, but also her Wonderland. She knew. And I know too. Holes are magical things. Ugly things. Beautiful things.

Despise not the humble hole. Without the hole, without the space, without the void, there  is no pathway to somewhere else.