Falling into step with time again I have been outliving now for about three weeks since I thought of this blog. I will start with an anecdote from Viñales a tourist destination in the mountainous province of Pinar Del Rio. It was here in the depths of the caves that I sensed for the second time an atmosphere of incredible depth and inexplicable force that courses through the veins of this bleeding country. I found myself listening for past echoes of rebel yells of the guerilla fighters who once escaped through these tunnels, and the hushed whispers of run away slaves seeking refuge from their masters deep in the darkness hoping for freedom, I though as far back as the native tribes that had at points used these caves as sacred sights and painted stories on the inner walls trying to communicate history for generations to come. I sat in the caves in complete contentedness amidst the darkness and silence. My favorite color has always been black; I feel this is because black like the cave swallows all memory, history, and future worries, anxiety in one deep and ancient feeling of solitude in eternity.
I often fall into this cave in broad daylight, sometimes when everything around me is too much to feel and experience my eyes turn off and my body begins to sink into this cave of connection with sole dark thought. In this cave that I can only enter my exit is a faulty concept. As lonely as it is in the cave and as difficult as it can be for me to make my voice heard from its depths, it gives me piece and protection like the revolutionaries, run-aways, and native people.
Maybe having an escape strategy is necessary for all revolution and progress. Constantly retreating but each time leaving the cave stronger. The only flaw in this hope is that if one stays to long in solid dark they cannot see the light. I do not want to go blind retreating into myself, so It may be time to enter another cave one where I can meditate but not become lost.