In the Caribbean off the coast of Belize is what was, in prehistoric times, a gigantic cave. It now is a 300m deep perfectly round hole that is submerged, surrounded by magnificent coral reefs and one of the best dive sites in the world. The water around the blue hole is the most amazingly clear, iridescent blue, filled with fish, dolphins and all sorts of incredible sea creatures. The sky competes against the sea with its own brilliant blue and the stunning sunlight saturates everything. It is an amazing part of this world.
But the experience of the blue hole itself is different. In it lies something we all have within us, something that some may be more familiar with than others, a deep dark black nothingness hole.
As soon as I swim over the abyss the water gets colder, the visibility diminishes and the sea life disappears. My breathing rate increases and I stop to let my eyes adjust. Beneath the top ring the steep walls fall back into a cavern, blocking the brilliant sunlight. I sink down and under the lip of the cave I find Stalactites. I swim between them, some as big as telegraph poles. They seem to reach, achingly down into the darkness. I look down into the dark space below, there is nothing to gauge if I'm moving, just all encompassing darkness. the feeling of being lost in a dark void encroaches. A dark void with no light, no life, no hope. A void that seems to be bottomless. The dark space beneath seems to beckon me. It seems so familiar in my mind yet absolutely terrifying. Terrifying because I don't know how deep it goes, how dark and convoluted my thoughts can get, how dark the deep hole within my mind is. Is it bottomless? Will I get lost in the darkness forever?
I swam into the black hole and made it out. I have done so theoretically several times in my life. I don't know how deep it goes but I know it is there tempting me with its familiar all consuming darkness. Which every so often, seems better than the harsh blinding sunlight.
