Flow

Friends,

Cathy and I try to take an occasional two or three day “staycation” nearby for the renewal that comes from a change of scenery and release from the dailyness of household routine. When we tried to decide where to go for our recent time away I said I just wanted to be near a river. I wasn’t quite sure why, but there was something in my soul that needed a metaphor, a connection with the flow of life that has been especially poignant for me this summer. 

So we found a rental by the glacier-fed Skyhomish River that drains the west side of the Cascade mountains. In front of our place was stretch of rapids bumbling down over an endless array of rocks. And then we also visited a nearby section called the Big Eddy where the river became fulsome and lazed along. Both parts of the river did, in fact, feed my soul’s need to connect my life with a profound sense of  of the flow of the river’s current, one with a hurried, bumpy pace and one with the sense of the flow of grace that is also so much of my life in these elder years. Perhaps you also have shared those two sentiments these past several months. The river really does provide a timeless metaphor for life itself, doesn’t it?

There is a timeless fascination and wonder associated with a flowing stream. It evokes life's yearnings and longings, something about a sense of linear movement different than the tides or the rhythm of the days. It is the nature of the river to always be moving, always in process, always with a sense of purpose and often urgency to be on its way to its final destination, to return to the sea. 

The early September transition from the more carefree days of summer have always been poignant for me throughout my life. It’s often been back to school with new classes for my self and the kids and resettling into my job. And I subconsciously at least are reminded that the sweetness of quiet mornings of sunrise, the warmth of sun-filled afternoons, and soft evenings soon will be replaced by being more intentional about organizational matters and preparing for the winter. And this year I have I become even more conscious and nostalgic about time passing. The flow of the seasons and life itself seems ever more precious. 

To push the metaphor of the flow of the river further, we know rivers like the Skyhomish are roiled by springtime glacial melt just as they are radically reduced this time of year. So it is with the life as we have experienced these past couple of years fluctuating between breath taking political turmoil and quiescent Covid withdrawal. I have therefore welcomed the more modulated politics and drama of these summer months, hence, I guess, the impetus for my intuitive need for a river visit. 

I want to close with an invitation to you to listen to (and perhaps join in at the top of your voice!) with “River” by Bill Staines. This beautiful hymn to life encapsulates all I have been trying to say in my notes above within the context of joining a rousing chorus of hundreds of others who are sharing with us the flow of the river/life journey, now and into a hopeful future. 

Blessings,

Tom
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDeM7kqzrvk

River
Bill Staines

I was born in the path of the winter wind
I was raised where the mountains are old
Their springtime waters came dancing down
And I remember the tales they told

The whistling ways of my younger days
Too quickly have faded on by
But all of their memories linger on
Like the light in a fading sky

River, take me along in your sunshine, sing me a song
Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let's you and me, river, run down to the sea
I've been to the city and back again
I've been moved by some things that I've learned
Met a lot of good people and I've called them friends
Felt the change when the seasons turned

I've heard all the songs that the children sing
And listened to love's melodies
I've felt my own music within me rise
Like the wind in the autumn trees

River, take me along in your sunshine, sing me a song
Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let's you and me, river, run down to the sea

Someday when the flowers are blooming still
Someday when the grass is still green
My rolling waters will round the bend
And flow into the open sea

So, here's to the rainbow that's followed me here
And here's to the friends that I know
And here's to the song that's within me now
I will sing it wherever I go

River, take me along in your sunshine, sing me a song
Ever moving and winding and free
You rolling old river, you changing old river
Let's you and me, river, run down to the sea