The Power of Water

February 1.  I am just in the door from a weekend-long silent retreat over on the west slope of the Cascades.  A story from my weekend… (there will be more.)

Early Saturday eve, as thirty of us sat in sweet silence, circled around a crackling fire, I had a message reverberating in me. In my Quaker tradition, this reverberation signaled to me that this message might be meant for another, as well as for me.

Since this was a silent retreat, at the rise of this gathered circle, I simply wrote the message on a yellow lined notepad and left it on the table where we were sharing information through the weekend.

Sunday morning, hiking solo down trail after climbing eagle-high to watch water surrendering into a succession of cascading falls – the essence of power and grace –  I passed a woman from my retreat deep in thought on the lower trail.  I was curious what was unfolding for her, but given our vow of silence, we did not speak. Sharing all the care one can radiate without words, we passed and each continued on, knowing we would reconnect soon.

As we finally broke silence in the early afternoon, and each shared the meaning of the weekend for us, the woman I had passed on the trail spoke poignantly on her transforming inward journey from her morning hike, and the importance that message on the yellow notepad had played.  I will protect her privacy and not speak of her story, but I will share the message. (You’ll have to visualize the yellow note pad…)

“Do not get lost in your fears.

Surrender into love.”

I don’t know what this will mean for you.  On my hike, watching the interplay of water and rock, the meaning became clear for me: in this ancient dance of waterfall and rock channel, it is the power of water that softens rock and opens the path ahead.  

Whatever challenge I face, I will have all I need so long as I remember to allow the water-like flow of love within to guide me.  This then, reminded me of a favorite poem that never fails to open my heart when fear comes near:

I Will Not Die an Unlived Life.

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear

of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible, 

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance;

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.

-Dawna Markova

What does that message on the yellow notepad mean for you?

What could open if you were to shift your focus to nurturing the positive forces that are alive and well in your life?

I love hearing your comments.  What speaks to you?