Meandering Stream

Here we are, standing at the bank of a mountain stream where a steady flow of water finds its way back to the ocean. On days like these, I like to come to this mountain stream to unwind. With no agenda and no map, let's follow the stream and see where it takes us. Do you hear the light trickle of the stream? It flows with ease, winding and weaving through fallen branches and over smooth rocks. Before we follow its path, let's begin with a little wind down. This one is a breathing exercise. So first, get comfortable in your bed. Now, just bringing the attention to the breath, just noticing where you feel it, in the nose, the throat, the chest, the diaphragm. You're nice and relaxed. We're going to be taking a deep breath in for four, holding it for four, and then breathing out for six. So are you ready? Let's begin. In for four, two, three, four. Hold it for four, two, three, four. Now breathing out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. In for four, two, three, four. Holding for four, two, three, four. Out for six, two, three, four, five, six. Great, now returning the breath to normal. Were it a few weeks earlier in summer, the water would have been warmer. But it's autumn now. Too late for swimming, you tell yourself. And anyway, you've not brought your swimsuit. But still, the water is inviting. Your body feels tempted. You feel a kind of thirst to be inside it, find yourself strangely envious of the little silver fish darting by. You take your shoes off and you dip a toe into the water, then step in further till your ankles are submerged. There is a pleasant sense of contrast between your cool feet and your warm body. You fix your eyes on your feet, letting your eyes stare. There is something mesmerizing about the sight of water gliding over and around you. For a moment, you forget yourself. You wonder what it is about the water that your eye likes. The words which people usually use to appreciate water, how silky or velvety or sparkling it is, are part of the story, yes. But not the whole story. They do not account for the clarity of it, how it clears the head, focuses things, like putting on a pair of spectacles. You listen to the water moving itself from one rock pool into the next. A sound it makes as it lands is more like bubbling than splashing. But then the water isn't really falling. It's hardly tumbling, even. There's something very measured about its progress. It seems to be rolling downhill, maybe pouring itself from one rocky basin to the...