You gathered as water particles in the atmosphere and you fell in a million little pieces on creation. You landed across forests and on mountain tops, where you started your aggregation again. You became trickles and rivulets and streams. And now, finally, you have found a path and a way of moving in great solidity – you are the river.
You move across the landscape and carve out your signature. Here, you experience resistance and churn as white water. There, you encounter a great change and crash into yourself as a mighty waterfall. There is gentle moving in some fields, there is burrowing beneath the land when you find it easier to go underneath to stay surface-side, and there are moments of utter stillness when you are the lake.
One day, you won’t be the river. You will be gathered into the oceans as we all are. This is inevitable.
Another day, you might float upward once again and dream of angelic flights and cities in the sky. If that happens, you will begin to gather yourself again and become clouds again, and you will fall on creation again. This is perhaps not inevitable.
Either way, there is no loss.
For all of this long and winding path you have taken always exists. You are always the great and nebulous clouds. You are always the drops falling on the leaf, always the trickle down the hill, always the streams and always the river. Although your mind’s eye remembers the water fall or has yet to encounter it, it always exists and you are just as much it as it is a part of you.
And all these others? Ah, well they too are the clouds and the river and the ocean. They are different points of consciousness following the winding path of this or that waterway. The waters themselves belong to all of us. Time seems to pass, lives seem to arise and subside, but that is only our tracing of the rivers. The rivers are not changing; we are just encountering different aspects as we flash through them as waves of light.
Why fear or struggle to quickly move out of the swamp? Are not all these monsters made of water, too? In the dizzying spin of perspective in the waterfall, why do we imagine we intangible floating points of mind could drown?
Why cling to the peaceful meadow or koi-filled pond by the temple? Do they always not exist, even when we have moved to look at another point of the river? Do not all these things live equally in the clouds and the ocean currents?
We have been with you in the desert and on the mountaintop. You have been with us in the forest and the glen. All beings are flickering facets of the One consciousness. All life and love is one mighty river that always exists. There is nothing to fear and nothing to gain or lose.
There is only the One, this love, and this wondrous journey of all our selves. There is only the river.