THE ANALOGY OF THE RIVER

In a lecture I attended a few years ago my mentor Max Strom pointed out that be it a divorce, a move, the loss of a job, a health problem, or the death of a loved one, if we weren't already in the midst of a life crisis we could likely expect to experience one sometime in the next three years. 

Max wasn't trying to scare us. Rather he was reminding us that these kinds of challenges are more common than most of us would like to acknowledge. In fact if you think about it, you probably know someone who is going through a life crisis right now. Even so, when they happen to us they rock us to the core. We feel surprised and underprepared.

Separately, western cultures favor stoicism in hard times. We're collectively uncomfortable with open expressions of grief and pain, often avoid our own, and struggle to know what to do when friends are suffering. After a crisis passes we can be wary of unearthing the anger, grief or fear we pushed down while in management mode. 'Keeping it together' has its costs though. The Body Keeps the Score.

Using breathwork and visualization Max coaches students to set aside their emotional armor and access the inner tenderness the armor is protecting. On the other side of the personal journey is usually gratitude and often forgiveness. 

I sometimes offer my own students The Analogy of the River meditation. It can help frame our journey by reminding us that big feelings are temporary, and the more we relax into them, the less we suffer. It goes like this:

Moving through life is like flowing down a river. Much of the time we navigate the river skillfully, working with the energy of the currents. Sometimes we swim. Sometimes we float on our backs. Sometimes we make use of the rocks or the low-hanging branches of trees to time and direct our passage. With experience we learn to shape our bodies so the currents take us towards shallow sandbars when we need to rest, or along favorable paths when we want to flow swiftly. 

As we’re carried downstream however, there are times we must pass through stronger currents and chaotic rapids. When this happens our instinct is to struggle. We try to fight the river. If we lose control or get pulled under we start to panic. We find ourselves scratching for the surface even though we know struggling only exhausts us and panic is a recipe for drowning. 

Skilled navigators learn to override these instincts. We learn to trust the river. We practice relaxing and let the currents take us. Even if they take us farther and faster than we expected. Even if they hold us under a little longer than we’d like. Even if sometimes we get bruised on the rocks. When the rapids become powerful enough to overwhelm us, skilled navigators know our only option is to surrender. A masterful traveler holds their breath and waits until the river returns them to the surface, which is not guaranteed of course.

At other times during the journey the river flows slowly and gently. It may sweep us into the shelter of a clear, shade-dappled pool. Or we may stall in the caress of a gentle eddy, where we will have the opportunity to rest. In these calm moments we have time to reflect. 

It is fear that interferes with our ability to navigate currents and manage the energy and force of the rougher parts of the river.

In order to be intuitive, intelligent and effective travelers we must do two things: 

One: We make peace with the past. Though our tendency is to try to forget the scary and the painful, when we have the chance it’s best to laugh, cry, scream, yawn, shake, ponder, bow, tell our story, and wonder at the amazing, sometimes treacherous awesomeness of the river, and at how little control of it we actually have. It’s best to do this with others.

Two: When we find ourselves floating through calmer waters we must REST. For the river will ask us again for both skill and surrender.

Please share. Which part of the river are you in now? And.. how are you navigating?