Still Water

“Take me to the still water”, I begged,

“To where there is peace and calm.”

He took my hand, shaking his head,

“Life doesn’t happen in the still water,

It happens in the rapids where you are thrown to and fro, bewildered, your senses alive, feeling the energy of the tumultuous water, lost in its swirling chaos. Up is down, down is up. To live, to be electric with life, let go of what is comfortable, trusting that whatever comes is surmountable. Jump into the void, even when you fear what is on the other side. Only then are you truly alive.”

I stuck my hand in the chilly whitewater, flecks of froth splashing up on my face. I felt the pull, almost magnetic, drawing me toward its mysterious depths. The water crashed around me, eternal. Hearing the siren call, I  closed my eyes, relinquished myself into its arms, and slipped into the roiling waters.  

Truly alive at last, no longer pining for the still water. 

  


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