meandering stream

The other day, I was walking in the mountains here in New Zealand, and at one point I looked down into the valley and saw a mountain stream crossing a rather flat plain, and it was meandering. It was a beautiful shape: the bends in the stream had almost joined up with each other. It seemed to be taking the longest possible path that the space would allow, to get from one end of the plain to the other.

And seeing this, it made me realise how we humans tend to be very focused on efficiency. We want always to go by the shortest route. We want to get there as quickly as possible. And now, having seen this stream, I'm questioning that. Why? Why are we always in such a rush to get somewhere? It seems to me that the meandering stream has a much more relaxed attitude.

It seemed to be saying to me: it doesn't matter whether I'm here or there. It doesn't matter how long it takes. I'm just enjoying flowing this way, then that, twisting and turning, enjoying the flow, without feeling in any rush at all.

And I think if we lived more like this meandering stream, on the whole we would be more content, certainly more relaxed. Because the crazy thing with rushing somewhere is that it becomes a habitual way of moving through the world. So when we have reached there, then we still feel the urge to rush on to another place. It's endless. And with all that rushing, do we really take time to look around us, to appreciate whatever place we are in, in the moment?

So I'm thankful to that stream, for reminding me that there is no rush, really. It doesn't matter how long we take to get wherever it is we're trying to get to: be it a physical place, or somewhere on the spiritual journey. This attitude of not being in a rush to get anywhere is so important. It was a timely reminder.