Locating Our Source

River of Life

“On the banks on both sides of the river, there will grow all kinds of trees for food. Their leaves will not wither nor their fruit fail, but they will bear fresh fruit every month, because the water for them flows from the sanctuary. Their fruit will be for food, and their leaves for healing.” Ezekial 47: 12


A river runs through the small North Carolina town where I grew up. In the mid-2000's I spent a lot of time there on Family Medical Leave taking care of my mother, who had cancer. Everyday, I went with my dog, Julie, and walked for a couple of miles along the green-way at the river’s edge. That river was my lifeline, connecting body and soul. I'm not the best care-giver, so, in mountain parlance, “my nerves were shot to hell” a lot of the time. The river became my shock absorber. Bodies of water have moods, just like human beings. Some days the river glittered happily in the sun-light, and some, it appeared dull and somber. The mood of the river often matched my own, so whatever I brought was acceptable.

During one of my stints there, the remnants of Hurricane Katrina, blew through and dumped many inches of rain in one overnight period. The river rose to twelve feet above flood stage and sent red-mud and three feet of water into homes that had been there fifty years or more. No one remembered seeing the river rise that fast and do so much damage. Trees and debris, washing machines and boat trailers flowed along in the stiff current. Almost as quickly, the river subsided back to its original level, leaving an enormous mess for residents to clean up. The townsfolk were in shock. But an interesting thing happened. The river itself was transformed. Ducks came to nest on the newly sculpted islands. Rocks jutted out wehre no rocks had been. The original shorelines and landmarks were hard to recognize or simply gone. It seemed as though a metamorphosis had occurred.

Once, when I was studying Native American spirituality, we met in a desert compound called “Cielo en la Tierra” (Heaven on Earth). A narrow river ran through it, lined on either bank by cottonwood trees. The season was autumn, so the trees had turned a brilliant yellow. One day, we were told to find a part of nature and ask what lesson it could teach us. I went immediately to the river and asked, “What can you teach me?” The response was, “The river is constant, never changing.” I questioned this, since to my mind rivers change with every season. On this day, there were cottonwood leaves lazily floating on top. In winter, it would be frozen and its level would rise and drop according to rain fall. I was told, “Only the surface changes. Deeper down, what is quintessentially the river remains unchanged. It is the lifeblood of this place.” Just like the river, life is sometimes churning and chaotic on the surface, but if we dive deeper, to its source, we find a quiet center that is essential and unchanging.

It is no surprise that we speak of “the river of life.” Rivers begin at a source, usually deep underground, and flow continuously until they become one with, and indistinguishable from, a larger source. So does our Spirit. Ever flowing, always constant, our life-blood.

In the Spirit,
Jane