Streams

night surreal-2 (1)
This is a marsh in Belize where the endangered Morelet’s crocodile lives. It was one of the most surreal experiences in my life to get on an airboat at night and rush through these submerged trees as we looked for a crocodile…

There are so many times I feel that I am stagnating. In a limbo. Getting nowhere, doing nothing valuable. Then I blame many things that have caused me to get into this rut, family expectations, my being a perfectionist by nature, living in a small town with few resources and close minded people.

Today, again, my mom reminded me how lucky we have been. We have not had the large, looming issues in my family that many families, including my family-in-law, face for years. Long sickness, financial crises. In fact, we are blessed with being competent at our jobs which we were mostly allowed to choose (not so much for my mom in the beginning, but now she only does social work she likes). These jobs at least have had the potential to impact or directly impacted humans (my dad is a consultant now and before retirement was involved in the construction of many hydroelectric power projects). Our health concerns have been many, but almost always minor and manageable. That will change I am sure, but what we still have is priceless!

So, out of nowhere an image of  a stream came into my mind. The stream of my life, I suppose. As a child I hurtled past obstacles to land with bubbles and effervescence back into one wholesome life path. Now, many rocks and driftwood have split my life into streams as a way of getting through, when it was no longer possible to pass full strength. Most of the threads on the surface are going strong, even if they are no longer together. I have expressed my sadness about that before in this blog. But today I want to celebrate it, to all these tiny streams of my life making their own connections, taking me on different paths at the same time, I say: thank you. If I am meant to live many ways at the same time, I shouldn’t be sad that some of these streams are bound to run dry. Maybe one will meet other streams like mine, or one day, all of mine will find a connection and then we will run along together. All my life I have been waiting for a mighty current to take me where I am meant to be and I know that I will make my own. Perhaps the only way there is to be in many tiny streams now.

Streams of dreams, they are. So I will garden, I will make new friends, worry about my beloved family members, I will do my job, I will paint, I will dance, I will watch nature, I will cook and I will dream. None of these streams really know the others, I am in all of them in different ways; none have turned into the current yet, but maybe there is still time. Otherwise, to have so much is a dream come true in itself.

Thanks mom. I honestly only just remembered that Mother’s day is around the corner. Cheers!

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