It would be so much easier, but I just can’t; I won’t. This is on repeat in my mind as I stand in the middle of the River, watching the water flowing towards the shadows. I look along the banks, seeing the trees covered in shadow while glimpses of the fading sunlight dance among their roots. I look further and can still see sunlight along the tops of trees, but the shadow keeps falling upon them more and more as the sun sets. I watch as a lonely goose flies just above my head down the center of the river and, as it disappears, I’m left with the thought: “Should I follow?”
As I stand the River flows, never stopping…
I watch as the water flows downriver, thinking how easy it would be to simply float with the current like a fallen leaf. To be whisked back to what is familiar; to see places I’ve seen and be comfortable in waters I’ve traversed before. My spirit mourns the thought, though, as I know what’s there and the land that surrounds it. I’ve tasted those bitter waters, and walked among those barren lands, but am longing for so much more which means going against the water flow and fighting currents to press to a place that may not exist.
As I stand the River flows, never stopping…
I turn my gaze upriver and see the light of the setting sun creating a glow along the banks and framing the leaves of the trees. The light is bright enough to where I can see that I’m nowhere near my goal but watching the strength of the water’s flow strangely gives me hope that I may eventually find the fresh water I seek. Water that hasn’t been polluted by the silt of the riverbed or the banks that are lined with the trash of others who have passed this point before. And with that I begin to think of the people who I’ve crossed paths with as I’ve traveled this lonely river and feel sadness.
As I stand the River flows; never stopping, always moving…
I think back on the faces of those who spent varying amounts of time travelling along with me, especially of those in whom I hoped would would never leave. I don’t regret that our paths crossed, for each brought some good to my life, but I regret that our paths diverged. And while I know I can never have expectations on anyone other than myself, for mine is the only life I may control, I mourn that our choices are no longer aligned. I start to imagine all that I could have said or done to prevent that but I’m reminded that the best gift we can give anyone is the freedom to choose their own way and hope that choice will be to endure the river together, no matter what.
As I stand the River flows; never stopping, always moving…
My heart is breaking and tears fall down my face as I watch the sunlight twinkling on the waters, but I remind myself that there must be a place ahead that makes this journey worth it. There must be water there that can refresh my weary soul and make the struggle worth it. I yet travel alone, while carrying a heavy heart, but I’m so very grateful for what I shared with others and hope for a time when I yet again have one who will journey with me for however long they wish. And then I think again of how it would be so much easier to give up and allow the river to take me back, but I just can’t.
It would be so much easier to accept stagnancy and bitter waters, but I just can’t. It would be so much easier to believe that the waters I have already seen are all there are, that there is nothing more beautiful and more life-giving, but I just can’t. It would be so much easier to live and be like the many who have accepted the what is and labelled it “good,” but I just can’t; I won’t. So, looking as far as I can upriver and seeing no end in sight, I take one last look downriver and take one last thought of all that was.
As I stand the River flows; never stopping, always moving…
And so must I.
