Water

By

Lynn Anderson

Water is trickling through my hands, tinkling the air as it ripples downstream through quiet bushes. Tranquility hovers like the dragonfly of past dreams. Pure, the stream meanders from its mountain source along exposed plains, through steep gullies, then falling into secret pools. It keeps flowing, widening from other streams until it accepts the invitation of the expansive sea, splashing into wider domains.

It is rare to feel such joy as I sit on a rock gazing into clear depths, protected and sanctified. Sanctified by a vision that began like the stream from its source, flowing into the creation of a national park, a wild haven. The water soothes and cools as it swirls around my feet, its music mesmerising. Light shifts, reflecting the slow dance. Yet I struggle to stay present to such a precious moment.

My mind keeps drifting away to images of other streams, other rivers. Rivers without such protection, the once bright sheen of their braided traceries now a mere trickle hidden amongst grey shingle. Streams that stagnate, unable to evade the sluggish seep of effluent dulling their journey to the sea. On their banks, water quality notices spring up like meters. No swimming, or you and your children will pay with your health.

How and when did the perception shift? The joy of surrender amidst the miracle of life usurped by the need to separate and classify, so that water’s fluidity can be solidified solely into an amenity? Reverence usurped by careless disregard, or careful measuring of ‘acceptable’ pollution levels? How to avoid being so captured by current justifications, that inclusive balance is lost and freedom disappears?

Yet here in this protected place, water flows pristine. Wild as always, it continues to flow freely past and through my thoughts, cleansing them of strain, shifting my own perception once more. Images from Emoto’s The Secret Life of Water spring into my mind, bringing visions of the exquisite crystals water forms when exposed to words of love and gratitude.

Joy and presence return, and I send my love to water everywhere.