Write. Dig into the next layer, moist and juicy. Worms wiggle, odd-looking beetles dart about, uncomfortable with the hot light, trying to burrow themselves back into the wet darkness. You think, ooooo, gross, I don't want to touch them and get my hands gooey and dirty, but, oh no you do, you want to see what is down there.
Write. Be persistent, don't you want to shine your light and see what else there is? There will be roots who hold fast to the earth, they have no intention of letting go. But that doesn't stop you. You get down on your hands and knees, covered in wet dirt, and you pull. God damn it, you pull with all your might because, it's time. It's time to see what you're made of. No one said it was going to be easy, but whoever said what is worth going for is easy?
Write. It's an adventure. Seeing where the next corner brings you. And you should want to see. Because if you stay on the surface, what's the point? It's pretty and all, the grass, flowers... but where's your sense of exploration? Delve, and delve deep. That's where you'll find the real you. Explore the darkness, see it, feel it, move through it, so it isn't lurking in the shadows anymore. It played its role in forming you, the good, the bad and the ugly. If you expose it to the light, you realize what you don't need anymore. So say good bye and keep digging. And see what you find next. Maybe it's a bone, the dog that buried it from many owners ago. A treat for a day that never came. It's your delicacy. The gem you didn't even know even know was there until you wrote.