by Vicki Lynne
Contemplating separation, divorce, or career change, or other change.
I watch the cool water rushing rapidly past my body. The water doesn't know I'm there, nor does it care. I watch its movement, its speed, its ferocity,
Just doing as it desires, almost.
Rushing over the rocks around me, the water encounters obstacles, but yet, it's still going. It goes around and past the obstacles away to wherever it must go. The obstacles sometimes cause the water to find a new direction, but still it goes.
Does it know what's going to be there when it gets there? Most likely it does not.
Still it follows the direction of the path laid before it towards the unknown.
From where does it come? And why is it rushing? Why is it leaving? Did it too, leave a painful past? Was it because its space was overcrowded? Did it need more space, or a better place to be?
Whatever the reason, the water had to leave. No matter where it came from,
It still had to find a new a new place, a new direction, and doesn't care where it would end. Maybe it just didn't really care anymore.
Amazingly though, the obstacles won't hinder the water's direction except momentarily. It will find another way. No matter how long it takes, it either changes its direction, or evaporates like a cloud, or disappears into the ground. That's scary. But the water is brave and continues to seek a new place.
As the persistent water rushes past me, and I hear its thundering loudness, its 'freedom song', I wonder of my path, and in what direction I am traveling.
Like the water, do I care where I will end? Not anymore, just that I, like the water, need to go, even if it's over the dam. I'll cross that bridge, or in this case the dam, when I get there. For I need to feel the rush of escape with that same ferocity and sing the song of release like the water does, growling at the rocks, splashing, and fighting its way around.
Unlike the water however, I still fear the unknown. So I hold back, staying away from the dam for now, still holding onto my fear of knowing that once I go over, there's no turning back. There's no way to get back, even to those painfully comfortable familiar surroundings.
Isn't there a third alternative? Isn't there any other way, but to follow the unknown? There seems to be no third alternative for me. It's either, or.
Go ahead and rush water, rush on with your mighty force. Enjoy your freedom while you can. Because where you end, may be even more restraining than where you've been. And what then? At least you Water, have tried the third alternative, and maybe even more.
I envy you Water for your courage, and persistence. For now, I must keep searching my path, for my direction, and for the third alternative.
I have heard that one never finds new oceans unless one has the courage to lose sight of the shore. Water, please share with me your courage. Give me the nudge to push away from the shore. For unlike you, I am still afraid of the unknown. It's not the obstacles that make me afraid. It's the unknown end.
Water, oh brave Water, keep on rushing past without me. I admire your speed, your ferocity, your expression of freedom, and your courage. One day, I will be like you. One day soon, I will do as you. Some day.
For in time it will be my time to do as you are doing. I will be brave. I will rush away. In time, in time.
Vicki Lynne Wisecup, 7/31/94