Groundspring

“The river is time, and we are always within it -- even when we think we’re standing dry-footed on the bank, watching the current pass.” Robert Macfarlane

Yesterday I invited a volunteer from the Hospice Society to my home. After loosing my brother to suicide seven weeks ago, I have been saying no to worn out routines and yes to new experiences. Being open to the Individual Peer Support Program, where I am matched with a volunteer, is definitely saying yes to something new. 

I was explaining to the volunteer that I used to think I had agency in my life - that I could design and shape the life I wanted - but now that I am entering early elderhood, I am questioning this deeply held framework. I am more apt to consider there is a natural flow I can enter into relationship with. It’s not like life ‘happens’ to me but that I am part of a bigger river that is moving and changing in, oftentimes, unexpected ways.  

The volunteer made a connection with what I was describing to Wu Wei (無為), a core concept in Taoism. I was reminded that Wu Wei is understood as effortless action or acting in accordance with the natural flow and is often associated with water due water’s nature to find the path of least resistance, gently carve through stone over time, and conform to any container.

Instead of creating vision boards (and bucket lists), my role is to resource qualities of adaptability and persistence. Being good at not being in control becomes a worthwhile skill to cultivate as are listening, observing and presencing. In this way, active involvement in life feels less constraining and more yielding.

A few months ago new sculptural forms emerged, which arose from the collaboration of locally foraged earth and my hands. I called the work the Groundspring series. I found myself attuning to places on the land where water bubbles up from the depths and began to appreciate that an underground river is always beneath us and within. I listened to Robert Macfarlane’s book, “Is a River Alive?”, which gushed with wisdom and insight to support my lived experience. 

Perhaps I don’t need to find my footing in this time of disorientation, or see my brothers passing as a ‘curveball’ that has taken me off my path, rather find my sea legs and slip into the stream of life/loss to be carried by the river of time.