The Way of the Water
by Joshua Paul Greene
Sitting under a false sky, it becomes clear to me that people are basically the same no matter where you go. Some are loud, some quiet, some sure of what they want and others completely lost. On the whole it seems as though everyone wants to be happy, and yet no one is entirely sure how to do that. Everyone seems to know a happy person, but how that person came to be that way remains a mystery. A mystery that is, until you find yourself happy one day. It could be because you woke up early and had a wonderful breakfast, it could be because the person you love surprised you with a kiss goodbye as you were drifting out of sleep, or it might just be simply because. One thing is for certain though: once you’re happy, it seems as though you’ve been granted access to greatest secret in the world. When you smile at another happy person and they smile back it’s as though you share, in that instant, a million words of love and other wonderful things, and you walk away from the encounter as rejuvenated as though you had just awoken in the arms of a lover in a sun-drenched room on a lazy Sunday morning. Nothing can top that feeling, and yet it was experienced with no effort at all.
Perhaps it is because of this reason that it is so fantastic: because it simply happens. So what keeps us out of this world of happiness? What prevents the magnificent exchange of love and compassion between two perfect strangers? It takes much more than a snide remark; much more than a rude gesture. It might be the building up of small circumstances; a simple feeling of discomfort fueled by inopportune moments until it rages like a fire. Maybe not, but whatever the cause, it somehow finds a way to penetrate the fortress of your soul until it consumes you. So wouldn’t it make sense that preventing this intrusion into the sacred space within could keep out sadness or disappointment and foster the happiness that we so treasure? I think this is true. I think that if you can keep the poisonous fumes of discontent far and away from the temple of your being, they surely cannot do any harm to you. After all, they are only inclinations of daemons; they can do no real damage.
Life will tend to bend like the river. When you come upon rocks within the river, you can chose to be as the driftwood and get caught up with your troubles. That is one option. You can also chose the way of the water and simply flow around the rocks, slowly sculpting all you encounter to ease the friction of mutually changing paths. When you yield to the universe, the universe will in turn yield to you.
I choose the way of the water.