Clear Path to Peace

It was summer.  I was on a river trip with a group of women; all of us adventuring together on the Klamath River in far northern California, near the Oregon border.  I was paddling my kayak, happy with the day, the beauty, and the sunshine.

Underneath, though, I was worried.  What if I get tossed?  Every serious river runner has to deal with this fear at some point or other.  I’d been kayaking the Klamath for years and had voluntarily jumped in plenty of times. I’d also been quite handy with my kayak, managing to stay in the boat through countless rapids.  I’d only “gone swimming” once before, years ago. I knew that at some point, the river would take my little body and propel it out of the boat, because that is just how it is. You can’t do a lot of river rafting without that experience, and the more I kayaked, the closer I came to the inevitable.

I was lucky – the day was warm. Coming up to a class 3 rapid, I paddled hard in preparation.  I needed to align my boat with the perfect slot in the rocks ahead. As usual during river rafting, the slightest drop in my concentration would be my undoing.  I looked quickly to “river right”, making sure to avoid overhanging branches, then put my attention back on the slot ahead of me.  But that glance cost me one micro-second too many, and the river wasn’t waiting for me. I went over the rapid and into the river so fast I couldn’t even think about it. I was swimming, and I had no choice.  I was wet, the water was moving, and my boat was bobbing somewhere close by.
Here’s the magical part: after the first shock of surprise, I realized that the Klamath River was embracing me. I felt absolutely safe in its arms of love, and I began to cry. My salty tears met the river water and we celebrated the truth that, in that moment, there was nothing wrong, nothing scary, nothing to be avoided…just warm water carrying me downstream.

The river was so strong and steadfast! Except for my upturned face and knobby knees, it completely covered my body. It took me. I relaxed into the safety of it, still crying with relief and new understanding. It was a moment I will never forget.

River rafting can be a dangerous sport. Every toss from a boat will not be as ecstatic as the experience I had that summer day.  Just the same, I gained a powerful lesson from the Klamath. It taught me about the river of love, the river of life itself.  All of my fears, hesitations and assumptions were exposed and laid bare in one moment of my heart’s relief, when I got wet and realized they were not true. The lesson moved me because I was so aware of the metaphor: this water was alive and teaching me to trust – just as the water of every moment is also wet and alive and welcomes my trust, even if it doesn’t look like I’m in a river any more. I am. It is the river of life.  That day, I found out it’s also the river of love.