Fluent
I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.
~ John O’Donohue
I look out onto my beloved lake as it transforms, very visibly, from the illusory immobility of ice to its fluid state and I listen to what it has to tell me.
Water is the true stuff of life,
The deep mystery at the centre of all that is.
Water exists in a continuous state of flow,
a constant state of transformation.
Confronted by heat or cold, it turns shape-shifter;
mysterious mists weave their enchantments,
clouds build castles in the air,
Jack Frost traces ferns across the glass,
the land is pelted by hail and graupel,
and blanketed by a quilt of snow.
The lake freezes and, later, thaws;
watching the ice come in and leave
teaches me patience with the ebb and flow,
the unseen nature of transformation.
After days of retreat and revelation
a clear sheet forms over the returned water,
once – oh joy! – with the exquisite,
unexpected blooming of frost flowers.
Yet the process of change
continues inexorably,
moment by moment rewriting
the relationship between ice and water
in patterns of constriction and release,
of return to rigidity, then surge and flood.
Transformation exists
in every moment.
What is now
is not the same as what just was
or will be.
Out on the lake,
the ice lets go as we watch;
the clouds race across
the new-blue sky
casting shadow spells
or float in the emerging reflective stillness.
Beneath all is the constancy of water
and a process of transformation
without beginning or end.
Water is the true stuff of life,
but life is all transformation!
My inner transformation,
in this body that is more than 60% water,
is similarly complex.
There is much that goes unseen.
Just when it seems the ice is melting,
something inside rigidifies once more.
There are moments of unexpected joy and light,
but also times of constriction and the flood of overwhelm.
The lake reminds me that
all is unfolding, in its own time,
exactly as it should.
As I embrace my own transitions,
may I remember that this moment is all that I have,
is all that I am or need to be.
Let me inhabit it fully,
wrap it round me like silk
then allow it to slip away . . .
