Au bord de la rivière

The rush of the river mutes any attempt at conversation.  So, we fix our gazes forward and pick our way along the overgrown trail that skirts along the riverside.  Our feet graze the edge of the river and then climb a good ten meters above it.  Rising and falling, twisting and turning as we make our way upstream.

We hadn’t intended to hike the river today, but as we approached its widest point near the confectionery in Pont-sur-Loup we knew we had to stop. 

Sometimes you simply have to go where you are led. 

This river, Le Loup, carries a story.  Straight from the lower Alps, the snow run-off brings the cool determination of its journey through ancient hilltop villages and on to the Mediterranean sea.  Undeterred by steep drops and large boulders, Le Loup gathers its strength and winds along with fervor.  Often violent, always dramatic, each segment is a sight to behold. 

This spring, after a snowy and rainy winter, Le Loup is voluptuous and exquisite. 

We cross a narrow wood and rope suspension bridge not much more than a half of a meter wide.  Swaying over the water that flows a good fifteen meters below, I feel like Indiana Jones on a conquest for something precious and holy. 

Balanced this high above the water, with only a few small boards underfoot makes you realize that you actually don’t control a thing. 

You are at the whimsy of Place.

The bridge provides a unique view of the deep-water pool downstream. It is as if I am floating above it in a dream.  The deep basin has been carved into the rocks over thousands of years.  Transporting rich minerals from the mountains above, the calm water is crystal clear to the bottom and glows a green-blue hue that would make the Royal Cambridge Emeralds blush.

Turning upstream we see a narrow cascade of waterfalls pressing the water forward dramatically.  There are three cascades in a row, dropping down about five meters each.  The thunder of the water as it crashes over the rocks contrasted with the serenity of the pool below captures our imagination. 

Bobby hikes up the path to the water’s edge to explore the falls.  He’s a modern Meriweather Lewis, that one.  I find a large rock outcropping that protrudes over the second cascade and sit to soak up the warm morning sun.

There is something about moving water that drives us to places deep within ourselves.  The ocean gives me a quick hit of this universal rhythm.  Yet I prefer these raw terrestrial rivers for the complexity of their experience.  Maybe they remind me of Ash Creek, my favorite play space on our old farm in Oregon.  Or perhaps it’s the river’s dynamic nature – never the same from minute to minute.  Gone in a flash – come what may.

It isn’t lost on me that this river doesn’t care if I’m here or not.  It has been flowing like this for centuries and will endure – in whatever form it needs to take – regardless of whether or not I stop to appreciate it.  I am a small blip.  A small blip in time. 

But not a small blip in Presence.

So I will stop.  I will sit a while.  I will listen. 

And here is what this river tells me today:

You will learn that rocks, even boulders the size of sedans, bend.  Some of the hardest substances are powerless to time and the flow of water.  What you think of as permanent often is not.  What you see as unbreakable will crumble before your eyes.

You will see that the harshest winters make the most brilliant springs.  The violence of storms and cruelty of freezing winds breeds resilience and strength.  And when the air warms and the birds start their song, the result is grand displays of color and life.

You will recognize that mud isn’t a bad thing.  Upstream sediment combines with the life forces on the riverbed to create a nursery for new life with the strongest roots.

You will find that sometimes things come into your life that are not what they appear to be.  Although your heart can be broken again and again, you must keep it open, bare, and vulnerable.  You can not put a dam on the flow of your heart without destroying life downstream. 

You will be tempted to believe that you know where you are going.  But your previous journey has little bearing on where you’ll go next.  And sometimes the ground unexpectedly drops out from under you.  These are the moments when you are at your most dazzling. 

You will understand that like the sea, the vast expanse of love is the only place worth going.  Believe that you deserve love, relax into the love that surrounds you.  Know that YOU are this love.  Love starts deep inside of you and grows with compassion and boundaries into a flowing stream. 

And when you let love flow this way, it will leave you breathless. 

Bisous,
Hanna