Water flows through hard places
and pools in spaces vast and small.
It sings to itself all day
and has no ego, no plan, no
fear of a fall.
Listening, our bodies sing back
and breathe like tides.
The ego wants to hammer out
a statue that will last forever,
while water shapes stones
into rounder and rounder ways
that charm us into rounding too.
Will we become art as well?
What rivers will we become?
What pools, what tides,
Who are we? Our personalities? Our minds? Our habits and upbringing? Or are we our spiritual essence and light? What does it mean to be like water - do we flow freely or become dammed by stifling human ideas? Are we like gently falling rain into a world that is thirsty for love, beauty, and wisdom? Or are parts of us frozen or turned to steam? I think that remembering the image of a mountain creek can renew our inner freshness and sense of freedom.
This photo is of a creek in the Willamette National Forest, high in the Cascades east of Eugene, Oregon. Its water is crystalline clear, swirling downhill toward the Willamette river and eventually the Pacific Ocean. And then, who knows? Will it swirl around the world on ocean currents? Rise again through evaporation and be blown eastward back to the Cascades? And our own flowing ideas and heartfelt care - what beauty and nourishment do we receive from our loved ones, and then share with those around us? Let's find out.