The River

The River

///// Ashton Gustafson /////

This is it.

This is as good as it gets.

There is Something happening here, now, and among us.

It’s a River with no beginning and no end. An endless Stream of Love
flowing over a Riverbed of Mystery.

I’m not moving the River. It’s held, banked, supplied, and moved by Another.

But, I am invited to step in and participate.

There’s only so much of me and my form. But there is so much of me and
my formlessness. The River echoes this.

Who I am and who I always will be is whispered in the wind against my
skin as I move in flow with the River.

 

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Where are you unwilling to look?

Your shame?

Your spending?

Your success?

Your grief?

Your anger?

Your joy?

Your restlessness?

Your resentment?

Your opinions?

Your anxiety?

Your love?

You’re probably unwilling “to go there” because you’ve been taught more about the sports of judgment and critique more than you have been taught about the experiences of understanding and curiosity.

Understanding and curiosity sure don’t sell newspapers like judgment and critique do.

But they sure can make a soul soar.

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