River Dance

I arrive at the river in the late morning, and it is a beautiful - but cold one indeed - so I slip on my booties for further insulation inside my crocks...

It has been a while since it rained so the river is very low. I think that I could literally walk across it to the other side and imagine myself doing so. At one point, I curiously plant my paddle into the riverbed and find that in certain spots it is only a half paddle or less deep! I am grateful that Grace's underside is pretty flat - she doesn't have much of a protruding keel...

There are so many rocks and boulders lying at the bottom as well as different variations of grasses growing everywhere...Some seem like very long tresses that the river appears to gently comb...

Then there are the grasses that are more ominous and appear like dark tentacles. I shiver at the thought of the recent dream I had where the tentacles lured me and held me captive as I struggled to release myself from them - the symbolism in that dream so very evident to me...

I marvel at how one portion of the river has gentle currents - like rivulets dancing here and there - and other parts are so still I can see very deeply into it. How can this river be so different and yet the same? This river I paddle in is never the same river twice...

I paddle upstream way past the point I normally go to, and then let go, and do my full meditation practice of the morning, floating downstream for a long time, accompanied by the cacophony of many species of birds singing joyfully...

I offer prayers for a dear child I miss, whose birthday it is tomorrow, and I think of my own - no longer a child...Then, I offer prayers for all those on my current list...

I float downstream for an eternity, sometimes more quickly, and sometimes I am virtually at a standstill, and I think of allowing whatever must be - to be - embraced by the birds, and at the mercy of the currents which turns me completely around several times. The river and I are engaged in a "river dance" - a paso doble where I am danced in this dance and led...

There is a peace I feel here, on this river that is absent everywhere else. There is a knowing and an ability to see with deep and sacred eyes...Things make sense here in a way they do not when I am on land. It is like I enter a different world, and I am reminded of the book - The Mists of Avalon - a re-telling of the Arthurian tales from a feminine perspective. I remember how I longed to have the mists part for me so that I could reach that magical place of Avalon. Now I know that I have found that magical place for me - on this river - and I never could have foreseen this coming...

This whole journey began by sitting on a bench at the behest of a friend. And yet, I can no longer sit at the bench anymore than I can go back to re-live the past...

I think of the people that have come and gone - and even figured prominently in the last year of my life as I began this journey and transition - and how even they are walking a more different spiritual path - but one that is unique to each one of them...

I see the sun resplendently shining on the water's surface and imagine the magnificent "Eye of God" peering directly at me...

I wonder how much longer I will be able to come to this river and whether it will be too cold, and try to imagine what it would feel like to feel its absence. Every time I get into my car I pass Grace and look at her with longing...

I sit now, and bask in the peace given to me by this river, literally smelling her on my fingers, and feeling her in my soul...

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