Trusting The River

Today I feel I need to cut straight to the chase and tell you that I’ve lost my rhythm and flow. Or maybe that’s not quite right. It’s more like I’m a river meandering slowly through the terrain, forging onwards because that’s what a river does. It just keeps going. Right?

That’s it, I just keep going. One day becomes the next, then a few days become a week, then before I know it a month has passed and where am I going? Except, I guess a river does know where it’s going. The sea. Is that where I’m going? Towards my own ocean? Honestly, at the moment, I don’t know but I guess I have to trust that there is a big, beautiful ocean waiting for me out there but this feeling of meandering slowly is a feeling I’m not sure I want.

Although, could it also be possible that I have misunderstood rivers? I’ve always imagined that they know exactly where they’re going. Towards the sea. But what if they don’t know at all? Could it be that they are just responding to the shape of the land beneath them? Turning where they must turn. Slowing where the land demands it, then gathering speed where the landscape allows. And if you happen to be a scientist reading this, please, allow me this wild, imaginative thought as I don’t want to drift endlessly.

I want to feel the current beneath me again. To reach a section of the river where the current picks up. Where the water flows freely. To feel some momentum again and to move with purpose and conviction.

But for now, I am trying to remember that movement is still movement, even when it feels slow.

So yes, I do hope you are well and until next time,

Claire