A long time ago, someone told me that to find inner peace one needs to become like a river: just keep on flowing and observing, but not becoming overwhelmed by the people, events and emotions that tend to swirl around me.
It took me a while to find the wisdom in what he said. After all, rivers themselves can be wild and unpredictable — just like people and situations. A river’s flow gets interrupted by rocks, beaver dams, fallen trees, flooding, drought and ice. How does that serve as a model of inner peace?
I decided to go right to the source: Ms. Sissippi River. If anyone could tell me how to flow on, past all the trials and tribulations of life, she could. She told me I could call her “Ms. River,” for short — which was kind, considering I put my foot in my mouth right off the bat, asking if she could direct me to Ole Man River. She made it clear that, while he was a good singer, having that deep, deep voice and all, he was just her public relations mouthpiece. “Ah’m a busy woman; can’t spend all mah time lollygagging around with a song comin’ outta my mouth.”
I get that. Ms. River meanders from northern Minnesota all the way south to the Gulf of Mexico — 2,530 miles. Her tributaries are so numerous that her watershed drains all or part of 31 states, plus two Canadian provinces. The woman’s got responsibilities. So, I asked her how she remains serene in the face of all she’s seen in her long life. How can I make like a river and just flow?
“Well,” Ms. River said slowly, in her beguiling Southern accent. “Hmm. Ah guess Ah have seen a lot in mah day. Ah was born at the tahm of the last Ice Age. Ah flowed in down from that cold ole place up north, alone for eons. Latah, Ah passed Native American tribes — who, bah the way, treated me with mo’ respect than Ah’ve ever seen since. Once those Europeans showed up, and then the folks who came aftah, things got a whole lot busi-uh. Folks were trying tuh make me move, or speed me up, or slow me down. There’s been a lot of buildin’, lotsa cities and towns right on mah banks; lotsa bridges over mah head, and all kinds of boats a-restin’ on mah bosom. An’ a-course, there’s been wars and arguments about who Ah belong to, and who can live neah-by, and so on. Ah’ve seen heartaches unfoldin’ all around me.”
With all due respect, I said, “But how do you stay so centered?”
“Hush, child,” she said, with only a touch of impatience. “I’m a-gettin’ to it. The first thing is patience. Ah hope y’all start raht now a-learnin’ that.” She gave me the hairy eyeball; I nodded, but did not interrupt again.
“And, ya gotta stay in touch with your Source,” she continued. “Ah’m a river, so I have a source; you got your Source inside, in your soul. Am Ah right?” I nodded again, and Ms. River went on, her warm, charming voice making me feel better already.
“Ah’ve had to shift mah course more times than Ah can count. Ah’ve had obstacles on mah way, ‘bout every day. Ah’ve cried so hard that Ah’ve overflowed mah banks. But, girl, what Ah got and what you need is peace. Peace like a river.”
Suddenly, I realized her voice was fading away; she was going past me, leaving me on the bank. Eventually, I realized: she was flowing on, just like she was supposed to do.
“But, wait!” I called to her. “You didn’t tell me the secret!”
“Ah told you all Ah know, honey. Source…flow…patience…peace,” she said, her voice barely audible as she meandered on.
Source. Flow. Patience. Peace. Reflecting on Ms. River’s words, I finally got it.
When someone cuts me off in traffic, or is curt with me for no good reason (or I am curt with them), when people are selfish (or I am), and don’t care what happens to others, or to the planet, when the world at large seems to be losing its mind, when politicians won’t put the people’s interests ahead of their own, when innocents are killed, tragedies ruin lives, and the whole crazy world gets to be too, too much…
I accept what is, with compassion and concern. I do whatever I can to make things better. I try to be patient. But then, I take a breath, my soul fixed on Source, and I flow on. I have peace, like a river.
Kathy Baker is a writer and speaker, a messenger of encouragement who loves to touch hearts and tickle souls with her work. She is the author of “Leaving Adversity Plaza,” and “A Tale of Three Choices: His, Hers, Mine.” She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at [email protected].