I learned a lot yesterday. And I didn’t Google a damn thing.
As a kid one of my absolute favorite things to do was jump up and down in chest deep water. To launch myself as high as the extra buoyancy of the water allowed, and let myself come down into an underwater crouch. Then blast off again.
There was something so fun and free about doing this. I’m sure many of you know the feeling. Didn’t we all do something similar with our friends to turn inground pools into a surging ocean? To make the cannonball off the diving board just a bit more exciting?
So there I was yesterday in the Eel River, a ways upstream from where it flows into the bay behind Long Beach in Plymouth. For the first time in several visits the ride was high, and the river was almost chest deep.
I hacked a path earlier in the summer from the bottom of the beautiful property Colleen lives on presently down to the river, both so we could swim in the river and have a shortcut to the beach. We had wondered aloud how much saltwater got upstream during high tide. The water had always lacked the smell or taste of the sea.
As a less playful adult my enjoyment of the river until today had been more subdued. It was shallow enough at low tide to allow me to float on the surface, thumbs anchoring me into the riverbed a couple feet below. Closing my eyes, it was a wonderful meditation to lie there on my back, ears under the water, and feel the flow coursing around my crown and down my back, legs and feet. It was easy to let go, and ask the river to take anything unwanted with it to the sea.
So I had enjoyed my dip in the deeper and colder water, and was ready to get out and back up to the house. Colleen was due home from reaching a class soon.
I took a couple steps toward the riverbank and something inside stopped me. A whisper, asking for just a little more fun. I smiled up towards the sky and waded back into the middle. My smile broke into a delighted chuckle, and joy rose to meet my laughter. I was present, listening to my heart, and I was happy.
A couple of duck dives upstream quickly turned into the leaping and splashing of days long gone. I simultaneously marvelled at how much fun this was and wondered how I had ever stopped cavorting about like this.
The water was wonderful, and now tasted salty. Of course!
This aha moment would not have happened without me acting as a plunger, bringing the heavier salt water to the surface.
Some aha moments are only the appetizer. The one that followed in the next moment was far more profound. Just listen to those whispers, and let The Universe bring you what you seek.
This was not a new idea. But experiencing this truth by moving through life this way, in that moment was profoundly freeing for me. I can play! And play and creativity can bring me not only mundane answers about river salinity but larger truths to live by and share with others! I knew a blog had been birthed simply by listening.