And the River Flows— At West End Gallery
Who looks upon a river in a meditative hour, and is not reminded of the flux of all things? Throw a stone into the stream, and the circles that propagate themselves are the beautiful type of all influence.
–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature (1836)
Looking for some meditative space this morning. Don’t want to write, to be honest. Some mornings it feels like the self-examination that is often requires is just too much. At such time, I find myself wanting to be standing somewhere watching the river flow, my mind emptied and the gentle unceasing rhythm of the water’s motion serving as a droning mantra.
Then I am neither happy nor sad, nor fearful or unafraid.
Just there in that moment. Captured in the flux of all things.
And the river flows on…
Here’s song that has, for me, the feeling of that river’s rhythm. This is The Way the Whole Thing Ends from a favorite of mine, Gillian Welch. I particularly like its chorus:
Standing in the backdoor cryingNow you’re gonna need a friendThat’s the way the cornbread crumblesThat’s the way the whole thing ends
Redtree Times 