At the edge of the creek

I sat at the edge of the creek and watched the water flow, up and down, over rocks, eddying around into calm nooks by the bank. It dipped and curled back upstream, then folded under and continued downstream, toward its destiny.

I watched as bubbles grew from the turbulence and floated swiftly along, sideswiping a log, bumping into the creek bank, and curving back into the mainstream, ever onward.

The water did not stop to wonder where it was going or why it was there. It did not judge the rocks or logs that blocked its way. It accepted what was there, and flowed onward, pivoting around, above, below. Tugging at fallen limbs, pushing at stones, coaxing the sand to move along with it. Being joyful for just being.

I walked further down the path and was drawn to the edge of the creek each time I heard the babbling, burbling turbulence of water over rock, of water interacting with obstacle, yet offering peace, calm, solace. I thought how odd that I am so drawn to a sound created by agitation, friction, disturbance, and in that sound I feel peace.

Can we apply this lesson for our lives, I wondered? Can we find ourselves amid turbulence, conflict, chaos, and imagine we are sitting on a rock in the creek – peaceful, calm, healing? Can we let the water and the rocks be our teachers? Can we accept, let go, keep moving onward, joyfully toward our destiny?

I think we can. I’m sure we must.

“I only know that the river kept singing.
It wasn’t a persuasion, it was all the river’s own constant joy
which was better by far than a lecture, which was comfortable, exciting, unforgettable.” – from “At the River Clarion” by Mary Oliver


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