A stream called me this morning. Not on the phone, though it was adamant enough that had it fingers phoning might have been an option. Instead it kept inserting an image of itself between me and whatever I tried to do. I could hear its gurgling rush laughing over rocks and urging me to “come here!” “Come here, now!”
Water is persistent by nature. It is patient. Even relentless. It will find its way through to where it needs to go. Nothing stops water from finally reaching its goal.
With that kind of relentlessness coming at me, of course I went to the stream. Sitting on a stone in soft spring rain, I listened to her rippling, rushing laughter. Caught her invitation to allow her rambunctious flow to break free the words stuck inside. Dragged out my pencil and notebook and wrote between the droplets pinging from the sky.
Water persists. She is part of everything, yet distinctly herself. She endures by giving way without ever giving up. Confronted with an obstacle she course-corrects, carves a new path, and goes on.
Today, water is my muse, my model, my mentor. She moves. I move. She flows. I flow. She understands stagnation is a kind of death. She’s teaching me resurrection.
Today, with my stream friend’s guidance, I’m finding a new path.
Image Credit: Pixabay.com