A River Runs Through

'The Lady of Shalott' - John William Waterhouse

2014, or the start of it at least, is going to be a year of acceptance - I can tell already. Sometimes the universe throws things at you and you can never fully understand why. It's in the asking Why where we drive ourselves mad. I have been reminded of that fact time and time again, but somehow it's a need that we as humans forget how to deal with very easily. Loss is the most awful thing we face on this earth because it feels so un-natural. Like some greater force lied to us. You worked for it, you deserved it. But then it is stolen. Un-fair, right? You love someone, they are taken away. Why? You desperately desire something, and it is held back from you. No rhyme or reason. After trying to blame yourself, your friends, your family, your community, the wind - all you feel is the injustice of it all. 

Blame is never a satisfying game because it isn't the answer. It seems there isn't an answer at all. But we do always have the choice of how we deal with our loss. The thing/person/love we wanted so badly is taken from us. Gone. It's time to accept that and realize that the world still has more to offer.

I see my life as a journey on a small riverboat. I started out on a river that was so great and fast and peaceful and lush and beautiful that my reality was wrapped up in it. I understood the ebbs and flows of it. It was all I knew, and all I ever wanted to know. But then, suddenly, I was taken off the river onto an offshoot. A stream that led in a different direction to the one I was watching, expecting, enjoying. The currents swirled and the boat was bumped around and as I stared back desperately at my precious river, I could not understand why it had been taken away from me. I fought and rowed, was thrown around, exhausted, suffered and bled. It was cold and dark and terrible. But hard as I tried, I could never get back up to the main river. 

After a long time, days and nights, ups and downs, the offshoot meandered through enough dense vegetation that I could not see the greater river anymore. Every glimpse was gone, even in the remnants of my dreams. I gave up. It was devastating. A kind of bitter sadness I can't even explain. My gut was hollow. My ears numb. I mourned that river because it was meant to be mine, right? So much happened on that river. Everything was so perfect and calm. I thought all my happiness had been stolen from me in that one, irreversible moment. But after a while, I realized that if I looked left and right, there were these beautiful flowers all alongside the new river I had joined up to. And butterflies - massive, bright butterflies. I had never seen such things before. Such beauty and diversity. It was all new to me, and I realized that I was facing the wrong way in the boat, staring backwards into the past, searching an ever-fading horizon for the lost river, and missing what was around me. 

I turned around and looked ahead, only to find that the new river was just as glorious, just as bright and full of amazing things as the old one, even having a few new things for me to enjoy that I had never seen before. I decided to accept it. After all, I was still here. I had time on my hands, and I still had my oars. I still had my boat, and my boat was here, so I may as well join it. I thought about my old river still, but only some times and only because the human mind loves to wonder about things. Perhaps there had been a waterfall at the end of that river? Perhaps I was better off on the new one.

Whatever the reason, I accepted and set up camp, as it were, in my boat. Settled in and made myself comfortable again. Rowing to keep on course and to miss the few protruding rocks that popped up every now and then, enjoying the new until it became the normal. I was happily flowing along for a long long time, and then it happened again. 

Just when my sights were set on the future, a swirl I didn't see coming threw me off course into another unknown. Rapids and turbid water. But as the wild sting of the unforgiving torrents thrash at my face, I know it will be OK. I have been in a place like this before. I know that this time, I will not face the wrong way. I will try not to glance back too much, but rather look forward. My river has changed paths again, and it's not my fault or anyone's around me. There is no Why. Why is a stupid question for an experienced off-course boat-person like myself, after all. Asking 'Why' is only looking backwards, facing the wrong way, trying to find answers I am not going to get while on this earth. All I have is faith, hope, trust, and my little boat. And my oars. I know that if I paddle myself smoothly down this uncomfortable stream, it will once again lead me to a new river, and I know that it will be OK. It is my new path and I accept it.

Acceptance can be a beautiful thing, though not easy. It is like learning a new piece of music on the piano - one that is harder than before, and the learning curve causes all kinds of frustration. But when I get past that uncomfortable part, the new learned song is so rewarding, not only for me, but also for those around me who get to enjoy the beauty of the song too as I play it.

Bring on 2014. I am stronger than before and am ready for my new beautiful river, whatever it may have in store for me. I can do this.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom