Crossing Streams

Crossing Streams

The best part about it is that there aren’t words to describe it. The things that come closest are metaphors, and even then it still feels like a child describing how to ride a bike to a bird. The child is so new to it, that it sees some things those who have known for a long time never think of, and also maybe misses the important parts like holding onto the handle bars. And the bird maybe has little interest in riding a bike itself, since naturally flying makes these things of little importance.

But I sit here next to a stream that I currently feel quite connected to. Like I am hugging it as my mother and conversing with it like my best friend and looking for answers from it like my therapist. The stream will always give answers, but undoubtedly I will not always listen.

Water is such a beautiful thing; it translates amazingly well from one way of thinking to another. It makes up life, without it we could not live. It is most of our mass, it is the beginning of life, and we rely on it and drink it daily to remain alive. So if I am to stay alive spiritually, the physical manifestation of water helps to trigger the meaning of water to my soul, and my soul then rehydrates and reanimates.

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