THE RIVER

I have often thought that a good metaphor
for life was floating down a river unsupported
by boat or raft. Sometimes the river is peaceful
and the “livin’ is easy”. Sometimes it is swift,
full of rapids, and frightening. In those times, it
is tempting to grasp for a rock or an overhanging
branch. That seems somehow safer than trusting
the river to support me. When I do, however, I find
that I am nearly beaten to death by the powerful river.
On rare occasions, in moments of reckless abandon, I
have ‘shot the rapids’ and felt buoyed by the river,
exhilarated and happy. But mostly, I have allowed
my fear to reign and have clung to people, thoughts,
and things.

Today, a new metaphor comes to me that does not
replace the old metaphor, but adds to it.

It seems that I do not completely let go of many of the rocks
and limbs I cling to, but take a part of them with me – let’s
call them pebbles and twigs and maybe a few largish rocks
and limbs as well. After awhile, I have enough
ballast to build a little dam. The river continues to
flow to the left and to the right, but where I am
there is no motion at all. It seems safe in a way,
but the scenery never changes, the excitement
is gone, and life becomes stagnant, colorless, and
dead. I see others floating past and feel pangs
of envy.

I am now choosing to release each of the things I
cling to as I become aware of them. As I do so,
little trickles of water begin to spill over the dam.
As more come to the surface and are acknowledged
and released, the flow becomes stronger and the rest
easier to release. I seem to be choosing the exhilaration
of life, over the deadness of safety.

Like all metaphors, this one falls short at describing
all of life. So, like a twig in the stream, fetch it out
if it strikes your fancy or let it float on by.