"As a child I thought if I could touch the sky I could touch the face of God. As a man I learned that all I had to do was touch my own heart"
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The River of Life ***


Well I am back in my canoe again, floating down the River of Creation. The river has been very profound of late, as I allow it to overtake me. It vibrates and pulsates with the unfolding of my soul’s design. At age 65, I am younger now, and far more excited, than I was at 18. When I was 18 I was burdened by the torments and whispers of my egoic mind. Nobody ever taught me that I was magnificent; that I was a flowing droplet in the great River of Life.


They taught me algebra. They taught me that God was up there, unapproachable, and that he craved worship. They taught me that I wasn’t good looking or athletic enough to be loved. But no, they never taught me that I was magnificent. Now I know, because I am a part of the River and the River is magnificence in its purest form. I and the River are One. I wish to shout this from the highest mountain ledges. I wish to watch the trees sway in acknowledgment and hear the birds sing in delight at my exclamation.


Not that I don’t still have my “lessons”. The mind still holds sway at times with its trembling demands for acceptance, self-worth and survival. I know that I need but lovingly bless these thoughts and return them to the River of Peace. I know, I know…but I don’t really know…at least not at all levels of my being.  And that is perfectly fine.


The River knows. it has nothing to prove. It seeks only to expand and to serve Creation. Form and consequence have no meaning to it. It does not need to know the future, for its joy is in the flowing. The river allows but never molds. It seeks only to celebrate, and this, my friends, is the true meaning of worship.