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Missing the Water

The form of water that has invaded the season is now snow. I do not mind snow. Because it is an insulator. What I do mind is missing the sense of flow that the motion of water conveys. Granted snow is a product of the flow of the weather and each snowflake changes with every second, especially in the melting of the crystals. But those changes are invisible to me on a microcosmic the grey days pass into sunny, bright ones and the wind gusts die down and the air is still.

Change seems to be invisible except as periods of time pass. I turned sixty this year. So far I feel the same as I did when I was fifty-nine, a day earlier than my birthday. Yet, in August of 2009, I had major surgery, which led me to the couch literally, for months. I could walk, yes; but I could not do as actively as I had before the surgery. So what happened was that over time, what would happen to any person happened to me. I gained weight and in all the wrong places.

My diet has been as effective as it can be. I bought a stationary bike. I use it as often as possible. I am actually in a good mood most of the time. But I have this one pair of pants that I wear for work pants that are tight. On some days, they feel less tight than on other days. It is discouraging. It seems that over that period of months and now it has been over a year and a half, I lost feeling good in my body.


Believe me, it is not easy using the best creative parts of me to transcend the physical. But, I have to. Even when the transcendence is delivered with a sense of humor.


Gazing at the water is a peaceful means to focus. The water is powerful. It has weight, but no meaning. The sound of the pounding excites me; I am inspired by that over which I have no control.

The belief that I can live out the rest of my life happily and pursue my personal fulfillment must be all-pervasive and that belief must ooze out of my pores and be filtered by them at the same time. I have no control over what happens for the rest of the day, much less the rest of my life. Casting away dread is a major step in letting myself go in the directions I need to go in. Then I have to make mistakes. Mistakes are vehicles for taking hold of what is possible, otherwise, how would I find direction? And be fearless about turning the corner, turning the page, whatever metaphor is applied to mean: going for it! So I can sleep at night, for heaven's sakes.

When I meditate, I am with the universe. I take no form as does the water or even my body. I am not even particles. I see nothing and breathe. Thinking of the sound of the water is a gateway to emptying my mind, which is itself a pathway to another time and another place that I knew nothing of before I meditated.

I am not missing the water, only the external physicality of it. I dream of being one with it. Now and now again. After all, water is part of my constitution. My dreams should be easy to come by.

copyright 2010 Lyn Horton


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