The River Speaks Once Again
Those of you who have read this blog over the years already know, that over the course of a couple of years, not so long ago, I found myself in transition and deep depression, and I went down to the river to sit, meditate, and pray, and eventually to paddle in it. Over the course of that time, the river taught me many lessons, until it no longer needed to do so.
This morning, I arose early, and was back on the Potomac River paddling, for what would perhaps be, the last time until the fall. Normally at this time, the hydrilla are growing quite wildly and overtaking and choking the river. Yet, for some reason, they have not made a noticeable appearance thus far.
The river was as calm as it could possibly be. There was not a ripple or wave, or discernible current of any kind. I pushed off the boat launch area in "Grace," my trusty kayak, and paddled effortlessly to the Maryland side. Halfway into my journey across, a motorboat cruised by, and I soon found myself tossed about by the waves. The initial calmness of the river reflected the state of my heart and soul at the moment. The waves were symbolic of impending surgery tomorrow, and how I would momentarily be under the weather, but very quickly find myself on the other side of things.
Once I arrived at the riverbank on the other side of the broad expanse of this river, I simply floated for a while. Then I noticed a blue heron very slowly and gracefully making his way up the riverbank, his beautiful legs moving delicately and deliberately. I followed him very quietly for a while in my kayak. He seemed oblivious to me. Eventually, he decided to become airborne, circling around me, and then took flight high above, making his way downstream. I watched him, until he disappeared.
Shortly after that, another motorboat cruised closer toward the Virginia riverbank, also going downstream.
At that moment, I instantaneously realized, that both the blue heron and the boat were inviting me and directing me to pursue a new direction in my life - and to try a new and different way. In all the years I have paddled on this river, I have never gone downstream. The currents become progressively stronger, eventually leading to Class 5 rapids in Great Falls. I am truly a ways off from there, but still, I have avoided going in that general direction.
Today, I have been overwhelmed by the well wishes of so many, and it has been interesting to see how so many close friends have said to me, that they really feel that I will be stepping into a new life once this "event" is behind me. So, I am looking forward to it.
The river spoke to me once again today, after such a very long time, and it was so comforting to hear its voice once again...
I have been reflecting a lot on change, and the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" from the 60's has been playing over and over again in my head. To everything there is a season, and now a different one is bidding me to take a different path.
I will be taking a short break here, but know dear reader, that I am grateful to you for walking this journey with me!
This morning, I arose early, and was back on the Potomac River paddling, for what would perhaps be, the last time until the fall. Normally at this time, the hydrilla are growing quite wildly and overtaking and choking the river. Yet, for some reason, they have not made a noticeable appearance thus far.
The river was as calm as it could possibly be. There was not a ripple or wave, or discernible current of any kind. I pushed off the boat launch area in "Grace," my trusty kayak, and paddled effortlessly to the Maryland side. Halfway into my journey across, a motorboat cruised by, and I soon found myself tossed about by the waves. The initial calmness of the river reflected the state of my heart and soul at the moment. The waves were symbolic of impending surgery tomorrow, and how I would momentarily be under the weather, but very quickly find myself on the other side of things.
Once I arrived at the riverbank on the other side of the broad expanse of this river, I simply floated for a while. Then I noticed a blue heron very slowly and gracefully making his way up the riverbank, his beautiful legs moving delicately and deliberately. I followed him very quietly for a while in my kayak. He seemed oblivious to me. Eventually, he decided to become airborne, circling around me, and then took flight high above, making his way downstream. I watched him, until he disappeared.
Shortly after that, another motorboat cruised closer toward the Virginia riverbank, also going downstream.
At that moment, I instantaneously realized, that both the blue heron and the boat were inviting me and directing me to pursue a new direction in my life - and to try a new and different way. In all the years I have paddled on this river, I have never gone downstream. The currents become progressively stronger, eventually leading to Class 5 rapids in Great Falls. I am truly a ways off from there, but still, I have avoided going in that general direction.
Today, I have been overwhelmed by the well wishes of so many, and it has been interesting to see how so many close friends have said to me, that they really feel that I will be stepping into a new life once this "event" is behind me. So, I am looking forward to it.
The river spoke to me once again today, after such a very long time, and it was so comforting to hear its voice once again...
I have been reflecting a lot on change, and the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" from the 60's has been playing over and over again in my head. To everything there is a season, and now a different one is bidding me to take a different path.
I will be taking a short break here, but know dear reader, that I am grateful to you for walking this journey with me!
Comments