Flow

"...the river is everywhere at once..." ~ Hermann Hesse

It's about Flow.  A stream cascading over rocks encounters "obstacles".  And yet the flow is enhanced, not diminished.  

 

 

Stream photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Water Flowing Everywhere

"It is life, I think, to watch the water. A man can learn so many things.” 

~ Nicholas Sparks

Lately, and continually, I've been noticing water.  This is one of those new and very old things, but it's new every day when we choose to see it that way.

There are dramatic ways of looking at water, of course, expansive ways.  The ocean.

 

Yet what captured my attention just the other day while walking?  Water flowing in the gutters in the street. 

And suddenly I more fully remembered the child I once was (and still am, when I remember), how captivated I was by such a readily approachable thing as watching gutter water flow.  At times I would do something to divert the water's direction, then pause attentively, observe.  I was occasionally more entertained by the gutters around our home than with any number of toys, though I liked toys too.  This was my childhood.  And I remember.

Now when I look upon the water, and this is what I noticed the other day, I reflect upon the Flow.  I reflect upon how it is truthfully possible to discover hidden beauty in the simplest and most humble  of diverse ways.  But we must open our eyes and choose to look.  I'm happy I remember.

Transistor Radio Summer #2

"Turn around, turn around, it's on the other side." ~ Kansas

The summer is 1979, my transistor radio mostly in a drawer, my sister's discarded basement stereo now in my room upstairs.  I can't remember when I first encountered Kansas.  I actually visited the place itself around that summer, my now weatherman brother working the storms he loved.  Later I'd encounter storms there too.  It takes storms sometimes to trigger an Awakening.  I have Kansas to thank for some of that, in many more ways than one.

This song was all about the empty page for me.  And also about much More.  I still listen to this song today.  We think we know the empty pages we are supposed to write.  The ones we are supposed to write are never empty.

Turning Point

"It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come." ~ Field of Dreams

There is a scene in Field of Dreams when the Magic becomes visible.  The doubters couldn't see.  They thought is was "crazy".  

How could you mow over your corn?  

Because there is Magic.  And I'd like you to see.

There came a day.  The day everything changed. 

I sense we're not far from this day on this planet.  We have much of an over-thought world driven by "rationalists", when we don't need to live on mere "rations" at all. 

The Magic will find them, one Heart at a time.  They knew it as children and long, long ago.  We did too.  We do now.  They are coming.

It's the world that once was, and is, and will be again. 

P.S. I noticed a typo while previewing this entry.  I chose to keep it (or should I say, "is") very intentionally. ;-)

Wide Open Spaces

"She needs wide open spaces

room to make her big mistakes." 

~ The Dixie Chicks

This song has been on my mind ever since I interviewed Larry Seyer last week, a 9-time Grammy award-winning producer, engineer and musician who played a pivotal role in launching The Dixie Chicks.  I hadn't thought about the song in a long while, an old favorite.  It is echoed even more by my current surroundings, on a visit to the wide open spaces of my original home in
Colorado.

Room to make big mistakes doesn't necessarily imply "big mistakes" are inevitable.  In fact, I would suggest that it is the mistakes and apparent missteps which can often open up the spaces even more.  It all depends on our response.  We can close down or we can open up.  And sometimes it can even be a combination of the two.

There is a tendency in life to seek to fill a wide open space.  I see it symbolically all around me, as the much smaller Denver I remember from my youth sprawls out upon the plains.  Sometimes when a wide open space is in front of us, it is best to pause, take a deep breath, and simply experience the wonder of Wide Open.  We will know soon enough just what space it is we are called to occupy next...





 

Flow

Late again...if I keep this up, these will be my morning papers!  Apparently I wasn't supposed to share another poem from my youth since I found myself utterly exhausted, wondering how in the world I was going to write anything  Then I must have fallen asleep in my comfortable rocking chair, my favorite place to sit with my laptop, and here I am.  Thankfully I don't have an early morning (for once, it seems).


A conversation on my radio program earlier today (with Barbara Schacker, Global Awakening) has led me to ponder how many of us are beginning to find ourselves in a much more "organic" world.  It's a world of much more fluidity than discrete definitions.  Many of us like to think that we "go with the flow" in our lives, but I wonder just how often we actually manage to do so.  In our world of discrete definitions, there are plenty of barriers to keep life from from truly flowing freely from the heart, yet if we surrender to the power of our creative potential, the flow creates itself.

A favorite classical piece of mine is The Moldau, Smetena's expressive symphonic poem about the river he dearly loves.  Listen closely here.   I have known many mountain streams in my life, and so I can "see" this river well (and perhaps some day, I will finally be fortunate enough to see it for real).

At the beginning, the awakening flow is virtually imperceptible, distinct elements joining together in a dance of potential.  You can literally hear how the quietly growing stream flows easily over the discrete rocks in its way, finding its playful path.  It's wonderful to listen to the gentle voice of streams at this stage - I could literally do so for hours.

Then the stream begins to grow.  As it gains in maturity, there is more sophisticated interaction with its surroundings, including the people who begin to appreciate its beauty and the gifts it brings.  There is mystery too as night falls, yet it flows undeterred by the darkness, the moonlight lending even greater beauty.

Then the channel narrows.  I know many rivers at this stage.  This is perhaps the most challenging part of the flow, yet also its most powerful.  If the flow truly desires to be free, the more discrete limitations placed upon it, the more the existing landscape attempts to channel its energy, the stronger it becomes.  There can even be a sense of peril perceived by those with whom it interacts, yet the flow of its creative purpose yearns to break free.

The rapids pass.  Liberation.  Stillness.  Hidden depths take form.  At this point, I must admit I become wistful following the river, as in Smetena's world it enters into a city, and I find myself rather sadly pondering   its playful beginnings.  Yet one wonders if the multiple dimensions of this flow can actually exist in parallel.

In the end, Smetana's now majestic river lends the power of its full creative contribution to the Greater Unity of another, and one can imagine the Ocean that awaits.  One could say our beautiful little stream disappears, but does it really?