Took a momentous step today, beginning to remove old, heavy weight that has hung on me for years. As I moved through the woods, the river offered itself as a cleansing, a marking of the day.
Boots off and slung over my shoulder, I rolled up my pants and waded in. Soft, muddy clay swallowed my feet, my ankles. It seemed I would sink forever, but eventually I sensed solid ground, and could move forward. Chilled water surrounded my legs, and I made my slow journey to the middle of the river, dipping almost to my waist and soaking my pants before I reached the rise of deposited sediment in the center, the slowest part of the river. As I walked downstream on this sunken sandbar, barely feeling the pull of the gentle current on my calves now, the ripples from my legs radiated out in all directions. I saw them lapping the shores all around me, my movements touching everything I passed. Some ripples returned at odd angles, having met with a rock or fallen tree which sent its own message back in reply.
The forest echoes and articulates so many of our human feelings in its endless appearances. This impossible tangle of tree roots on the bank, like the tortuous and impenetrable intertwining of our lives with others.
Exploring on the far shore, I found a stand of peculiar mushrooms I didn't recognize. They felt to me like the potent medicine we can find when we walk authentically. Deadly, and miraculous, all at once.
