Life's Ebb and Flow

River Music

“Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time? That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere, and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.”

Hermann Hesse (Siddhartha)

I'm working on yet another small quilt featuring fish—this time rainbow trout. Rivers and fish have always held great symbolism for me. Of course, there's the connection with early Christianity, but it's more than that—older than that. One of my very first numinous dreams, one in which certain features actually glow, was of fishing—throwing out a line and pulling back dozens of shining fish. Rivers also feature in my psyche, from my earliest memories, to being a constant in my dreams. So I come back to this quote by Hermann Hesse again and again.

What I discover when I do the research is that rivers have played through all spiritual traditions as a metaphor for life and for us. They are archetypal in nature. Aiden Chambers, in This Is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn, asked the question, “Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river...” Are we indeed? There is something deep within us (just for the sake of brevity, let's call it the soul) that does not change. There is an “I” that is always the same regardless of age. We notice it more as we get older—we say, “I'm still the same person inside.” And that is so. Though our bodies certainly change with time, something vital within does not.

Rudyard Kipling wrote this about the River:

“Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew,

Wanted to know what the River knew,

Twenty bridges or twenty-two,

For they were young, and the Thames was old,

And this is the tale that River told:”

We always relate to rivers as though they have deep knowledge of something secret. They hold answers to questions we don't even know how to formulate—about life and death, and what comes before, and after, and in between. The Tao is compared to a river. Deng Ming-Dao wrote this in Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony: “We may be floating on Tao, but there is nothing wrong with steering. If Tao is like a river, it is certainly good to know where the rocks are.” Some navigation is possible with life's river, certainly. We can choose to fly blind and throw caution to the wind, knowing that the risks of hitting white water and capsizing the boat are great. Or we can respect the rapids and tread lightly around the rocks. But there will always be things we cannot see—things hidden from view. Rivers are famous for that. The very best we can do is have a good strong paddle, and a guide who knows the river very well. And, we have those if we choose to use them—that soul that never changes—it's every bit as old as the river.

                                                         In the Spirit,

                                                            Jane