For most of my life I’ve been a river.
Rushing through valleys, grinding down mountains along my shore, tumbling over boulders, the rapids rough spray in the air, drowning some with my turbulence. Constantly pushing past, never lingering for more than a moment in a beautiful eddy, swirling, singing through the pebbles, circling back into the intense flow down down down emptying into the ocean.
Then- so many options! Where to flow? Separated by currents pulling me here or there. Evaporated into the clouds, thunderheads gathering us up, spitting us out. Cleaved apart by possibility. Whole only as a raindrop searching for another river to rush down.
Now, I want to apprentice to the riverbed.
Soft tumbled rocks and sand, water flowing over us, changing my shape slowly with gentle movements, adjustments, rubbing against other rocks snuggled into the riverbed. No need to move in more than micro-trembles when the world (water minerals ash leaves life) rush past. I want to observe the massive flow streaming past, bubbling around me, swishing by in the form of fish and human, idea and dream. But I will have no hands to grasp. I will let it go. I will not fear the forgetting. These elements in me have deep memory, deep connection, and what needs to be remembered will be.
I do not have to be wild and rough, exciting and picturesque like the river, (but I can be at times, dislodging myself before settling again).
As the riverbed, I can be the grounding, calm, connecting force that holds so much.
And holds onto nothing.