The Bottom of the Hole

You usually start digging the hole with enthusiasm and optimism. 

Just a few shovel-fulls and I’ll find what I’m looking for. Yeah, sure, I’ll probably break a sweat. I might have to go a little deeper than I hoped. No problem. I got this. 

After a bit, you’re much deeper than you expected and still haven’t found what you’re looking for. Plus, you weren’t expecting all of those rocks and that hard red clay. You’ve tossed the sweatshirt aside, and the blisters are starting to form on your hands. 

But you’re sure it’s there. You’re still committed. You just grabbed the big digging bar. 

Now you look up and realize that the hole’s deeper than you are tall. You still haven’t found it. The sweat’s pouring off your brow. You stink. Your hands are raw, and your shoulders are on fire. You’re so full of dirt, your spouse wouldn’t recognize you. 

It’s dark at the bottom of this hole. You’re starting to question whether what you’re looking for is even here. 

The thing is, this isn’t your first hole. When you climb out and look around, you can easily see the other holes you’ve started. All have ended like this one. Too deep. Too dark. Nothing in them. 

Do you keep digging here at the bottom of this hole, or do you start a new one? Again.  

If you pick a new spot, won’t it just end the same? If you keep digging at the bottom of this one, is it a fool’s errand?

Sometimes, the best thing you can do is stop digging. Climb out. Rethink. Rest your shoulders. Grab a drink. Find a better map.

And when you pick up the shovel again, wherever you choose to dig, you’ll do it wiser.