Sunday, March 22, 2020

The Allegory of the Bitter Well Digger



There were once two feuding neighbors, who in the face of extreme hardship and drought, found themselves digging wells for water. Each had staked out a section on their own property, gathered buckets, rope, and tools, and broke ground with their spaded shovels. To the best knowledge that either neighbor possessed, the most likely spot that would yield the most water lay directly on the property line shared by the neighbors. The raw feelings of past feuds, together with the immediacy brought on by drought, created the circumstances wherein these two neighbors would endure an intense brawl of back-breaking digging and boring. The need for water, while of the utmost importance, seemed to be secondary to the need to out-do one another.

Happier times existed between the two neighbor's. For a time, many in the county had believed the two neighbors to be considerate, kind, and cooperative. But the trials of the drought had revealed hidden wounds and grievances that had gone unnoticed and untreated. One neighbor in particular felt greatly mistreated at the expense of the other. When news of the feud reached the community at large, the angry neighbor told tales of bad dealings, stolen property, and general misdeeds. Once, the angry neighbor exaggerated how the other had allowed his livestock to roam roughshod over his land, leaving behind a disastrous wake of cow-pies and mess. The other neighbor, acknowledging that a single dairy cow had indeed wandered unintentionally onto the angry neighbors property, took up a shovel to scoop up the mess left by the dairy cow. Not to be made the fool, the angry neighbor used the opportunity to accuse his once-good-friend of stealing manure fertilizer. For the angry neighbor, the line had been drawn, crossed, and couldn't be erased.

So, on the day that the well digging was to begin, the angry neighbor watched the other neighbor ceremoniously heave the first shovel scoop from his mark, placing the thirsty top soil off to the side. After a few more scoops, his neighbor stopped, removed his handkerchief from his overalls and wiped the sweat from his brow. Leaning on his shovel, he beheld the angry neighbor digging furiously, one scoop after another, only a few short feet away from his well. The race to the bottom had begun.

So heated was the feud, that it had devolved into literal mudslinging. Back and forth, one neighbor would take one shovel full of dirt, and toss it back at the other in a fit of anger, causing great annoyance and discomfort for the other. The feud continued for a time, and little was accomplished on account of each neighbors hole being filled with the other neighbors dirt.

One day, the angry neighbor exerted great effort into tossing his dirt to the others property. The bitter neighbor worked so furiously and so intently, he was slow to notice that other had ceased digging altogether. The realization produced a audible scoff of pride from the bitter neighbor. He had imagined that by his own great effort and ability, he had scored another victory. For a brief time, the angry neighbor felt a sense that justice was being served. The feeling was enough, that he left his hole for the day and took to the streets to boast of his victory.

But the angry neighbor's mind deprived him of rest. That night, he lay awake considering what conspiracy the other neighbor was likely involved in. Had the other neighbor really given up? Victory seemed too easy. Too convenient. The angry neighbor looked out the window to see if his treacherous friend had made any progress on his well. He hadn't. In fact, all the tools had been taken away, leaving only the open hole and a trio of dry dirt mounds surrounding it. Unconvinced, the angry neighbor imagined that they would return, likely with a machine to carry on the work. Such a move would certainly turn the tide against him. The thought angered him, and the bitter neighbor grew more bold and more intense. They thought, if they could continue fervently digging while the neighbor would not, they just might gain the upper hand and bury his neighbor, if not literally then figuratively.

Ignoring his tired body, the bitter neighbor put on his coveralls, grabbed his gloves, and raced outside to continue to the digging. Down the bitter neighbor dug, shovel after shovel, bucket after bucket; paying little heed to anything else but the burning desire to outdo and out-dig. So passionate was the bitter neighbor, that they worked day and night. No breaks. No sleep. No time for other duties. He found no water, but that did not matter. All that mattered was the shovel, the dirt, and the thirst for dominance. 

Exhausted and over-exerted, the bitter neighbor finally paused, certain that they had finally gained the upper hand. For the first time, he had noticed just how deep he had delved. Looking up, he could see light, but only a weak ray of sunlight had reached him in the depths. So furiously had he dug, he neglected to provide himself a means of escape. For the first time, he noted how cold he felt. The sweat from his intense effort weighed heavy on his shirt, and turned colder on his skin as the dwindling sunlight signaled the inevitable shift from day to night.

The angry neighbor called out for help, at first nervously, and then frantically. So deep was the hole he had dug, and so high were the surrounding berms of excavated dirt, that no one could hear his cries for help. With his cries unanswered, his thoughts grew even more angry and more desperate:

Certainly his treacherous neighbor would have heard him.

Such an awful neighbor, that he would not have the decency to help him. 

It was his neighbor's fault to begin with.

How glad he was to no longer be friends with such a evil monster.

His intense anger and frustration did nothing to remove the harrowing sense of loneliness which overwhelmed him. What the bitter neighbor had not known, was that the other had given up on the feud altogether, leaving behind his hole in favor of a better location. Had the other neighbor wished to help, it would have been impossible for them to hear the angry neighbor's cry. It is unlikely that the bitter neighbor would have accepted the help anyway.

Lonely, cold, and venomous, the bitter neighbor sits awaiting rescue, cursing the very people who would be most likely to come to their aid.

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