Love and water. The mind boggles at how and why these two things are indelibly linked but for me they are.
Water not only reminds me of key life lessons, it is also a part of my support network. When I seek calm, peace and clarity I crave being near water. Or in it. For me, water possesses a healing power that rejuvenates and puts everything into perspective.
Water is like a dear friend to me. We spend time pondering the intricacies of life together. It listens and responds with insights that touch my heart. And it comforts and supports me unconditionally without demand or expectation. Water is happy with me just being.
I know this may seem a bit strange to some of you, but water talks to me just as plants and flowers do. Water tells me a story in the way that it ebbs and flows.
One of my most potent experiences occurred the first time I ever visited Te Waikoropupu Springs in New Zealand’s south island on my own.
Following a silly argument with my partner a couple of years ago, I drove up over Takaka hill to clear my head. As I entered the reserve I felt the presence of two Maori guardians standing on each side of the pathway.
The energy crackled as I walked through the entrance. As I did so, I received a vision of two intense, stoic faces with piercing eyes demanding my attention.
Out of respect, I asked permission to walk the path. As I did so, their formidable presence softened into a wonderfully gentle energy. They began walking beside me. They spoke no words. Instead the roar of the water rushing beside us spoke of anger, frustration and of reacting impulsively.
As my tears flowed, the rushing waters slowed to a more gentle pace. The presence of the two guardians faded as the anger subsided. It felt like the waters were demonstrating the necessity of all emotions, and the importance of embracing both masculine and feminine energy. I needed both in order to achieve the balance I was seeking.
With waters now moving at a calmer pace, I understood that surrendering to the feelings without attachment leads to a state of calm and peace. This was exactly how I was feeling. My emotional chaos was now replaced with clarity and a renewed compassion for my partner.
Being in the presence of a waterfall is meditative and commands me to stand still in the moment. It doesn’t matter how big or small the waterfall is. Each and every one has something exquisitely beautiful irrespective of whether it is a reclaimed dam or completely created by Mother Nature.
Waterfalls tell a story of their own. Life continues on. Dams may fall down and trees may fall. However, these events bring new opportunities for growth and beauty. Waterfalls implore me to prise my fingers from the edge and surrender with an open heart and a curious mind without fear.
The Dance of Relationship
Walking along a beach listening and watching the waves crash on the shore and retreat reminds me of the dance of relationship.
We yearn for connection and run wholeheartedly towards it. And then, as is the case for many of us, we want to escape to hide all of those parts of us we are ashamed of. When we overcome that fear we once again run toward the opportunity for connection. Sound familiar?
There are other water dances that remind us of love also. There is an exquisitely beautiful song by Mirabai Ceiba called Ocean which likens the ocean to being an open heart full of unconditional acceptance and love.
Being near or in water is so often described as being cleansing. It makes us feel rejuvenated, whole and sane. It washes away our stresses, and renews our spirit and relaxes our body.
Water not only reflects to us the lessons of love (and life), it offers us understanding and nurturing unconditionally. There is no judgement. It loves us for who we are as we are.
It makes sense to me that water holds the vibrations of our emotions and words. Water offers so much to human kind. As with everything in life, there needs to be give and take. Perhaps a mindful journey to the water’s edge with love and gratitude is required when I am feeling whole.
Feature photo courtesy of Pixabay.