Water as Metaphor

A good sized mountain river feels like an apt metaphor for my life. There's banks to sit on, sun and shade, rocks. Sometimes the water is deep and still, sometimes shallow and fast, sometimes deep and fast, and sometimes down to a trickle, more a stream than river. All of it is necessary to make the river what it is, and the key to getting along with it is how you flow with it.

Sometimes I don't do so well at it. Or I won't be content with what it is at the moment. It's not the rivers fault. It's mine, my perception. The river can be friend or foe. And it can change in a flash.

I need to listen to the river a little more, watch it a little closer, learn from it and groove to it. Maybe even sit on the banks occasionally for a picnic, or lay on the rocks in the sun and just be still.

I'm struggling with writing this, and I'm sure it shows. Lets just say in the last little while I've experienced the power of the river, and even been scraped along its bottom. But I haven't drowned (yet) and even got spit out up on the bank, hopefully a little wiser and a little more sensitive. I'm catching my breath, getting my bearings, finding my boat and paddle and watching the water in hopes I can learn how to move easily and fluidly with it.

Maybe I should change the name of this site to "Notes from A River". At any rate, I hope to be posting more consistently soon. Thanks for your patience.