Archives for posts with tag: Water

Be water, my friend. Water can crash, or it can flow. – Bruce Lee 

In Colorado, we have been rewarded with a glorious clear sky to view the entire full moon process since Wednesday night. It feels like the most bounteous gift.

I have been experiencing this moon at a very deep, primeval level due to the floods so near to me. The full moon indicates so very much when it comes to water and tides. While I was idly contemplating the things I have been birthing in my life, I was all too aware of the waters rushing down the South Platte, demolishing other plans for other people as the tide crested.

A few months ago, I wrote about the Taoist idea of staying low, being like water. At that time, I visualized a peaceful stream meandering around the countryside; or a river rapid, cutting and crashing to a waterfall. After the storms, I now see the destructive side of water much differently. Water in a reservoir can look peaceful and calm. When the reservoir is topped or compromised, that water, formerly held back and tamed, transforms into a driving wall that flattens and destroys. It is patient, but when it is time, it is anything but. This was also seen with the films of the tidal wave in Japan a few years ago. Nothing is spared.

This particular storm taught me about water in a couple of different ways. The night it began, I was attending my first tai’chi class. I had to catch a bus or two to get there, and walk a fair distance. It began to rain almost as soon as I left work. I discovered to my displeasure that I had forgotten my umbrella. I dodged the raindrops during the first part of the trip, but by the second transfer, the rain was coming down in torrents. Running 50 feet to hide under a tree left me drenched from head to toe.

At that time, I amused myself with the thought that I was learning a water discipline, after all. Tai’chi is known as a water form in the martial arts, along with wushu. It seemed somehow appropriate that the gods were soaking me through as some sort of bizarre hazing ritual.

By the third transfer, I discovered that it was rather fun being all wet. I tried to remember the last time I was wet from head to toe. I’m pretty sure I was 10 years old or younger. It was cleansing too – starting fresh.

When I finally opened the door of the Tai’chi center, I was practically giggling. An auspicious beginning, to be sure.

The following afternoon, I was bailing water out of my back yard. I was not enjoying the storm as much by then. And it was about this time that creeks and streams overflowed and took out hunks of road. Drainage systems clogged, and water began to overwhelm everything. Large reservoirs broke down; major highways collapsed… All from water.

Water is far more than bucolic babbling brooks. It will wear down anything in its path, given enough time. The Grand Canyon was made in exactly that way. Most of us don’t have an inkling of that kind of power. To witness it in action is humbling and terrifying.

The moon bears witness, aids and abets that power. Rolling water to shore with a churning surf, or pushing water down a hill or gradient, it controls the cycles of life we all know but seldom take the time to observe.

On this particular full moon, the harvest seems close… but for now, all we witness is the force of water.

It will be up to us to harvest what we can by the next full moon.

harvestmoon

I’m Chi.  You might remember me from the last time I snuck into my human’s office and wrote a letter to all of you. I’m back! I’m sorry I was gone so long. It’s not easy sneaking into her office a second time, you know. Plus, I’ve had a lot to contend with these past couple weeks… like my shaved butt.

Yeah, they shaved my butt. And I like it when people play with me, but that was not cool. Mom took me into the vet’s office one day when I thought we were just going out together someplace special. She left me there! Alone! I made sure I pouted at her for the whole time she walked away. Don’t tell her, but I saw my human looked kinda sad and scared. I don’t like to see her look that way.

So then, they took me back into this room and they poked me with something. It made me yelp, and then I got really sleepy. The last thing I remember is the nice lady in the white coat saying she was going to take my picture… I like pictures…

Then, everything was spinning. Spin, spin, kinda like when I chase my tail — only I couldn’t figure out which way was up. And then I woke up really thirsty and I was in a cage thing. I really wanted my humans a lot. I went back to sleep cause I couldn’t do much else.

behindbars

I guess I had stitches and things, and it hurt a lot for a while. I hated the big white pills and I spit them out cause it made my humans mad when I did that. Serves them right. Then maybe a week ago, they were talking to someone on the phone and Mom got really happy and squeezed me real tight and everyone got excited. I thought I was going to get some cheese or something. The humans did sneak me some banana. That was ok.

So ever since they have been telling people I am be-nighn, whatever that is. I’m a pug, not this other thing. I think they are confused. My dad looks at me and laughs and says I have a wart on my ass. Well, that’s rude….

You’d think my story was over, but nooooo. Then it started to rain. And it rained, and it rained, and it rained some more. You have to understand that I hate walking in the rain. It makes my big paddle feet wet. And I just don’t like it and I try to find the dry spot near the house or wherever I am so I don’t get wet. It was terrible. One day Mom came home after getting stranded without an umbrella and she was soaked to the skin. The next day she came home early with a bucket and threw water all down the driveway. I really appreciated that she wanted to get rid of the puddle of water so I didn’t have to get my paddles wet.

Later that night and the next day, my humans seemed very upset, and sad. I guess there was so much water that people could not get out and no buckets were enough. They had to get their paddles wet. I am so sad for them. They even told me about a story where a dog like me saved a man from going under the water. I really hope everyone is ok out there…

I better go for now. Bye bye and remember to keep your paddlefeet dry!

Photo disclaimer: Is this yours? Please let us know so we can give appropriate credit!

Water overcomes the stone;

Without substance it requires no opening;

This is the benefit of taking no action.

 

Yet benefit without action,

And experience without abstraction,

Are practiced by very few.

TTC 43

Interpreted by Peter Merel

I learn a lot when I sit and watch Chi interact with his sisters. His sisters are two rambunctious Manchester Terriers. He lacks their energy and their speed. He cannot outrace them in one of their dizzying races around the yard. He can’t jump so fast and high that he almost catches a squirrel by the tail.

Still, Chi has something the flashier pair lack, and he uses it — often without fanfare. He can lie quiet and motionless. When they crawl all over him, he sinks into himself with a deep sigh. He’ll close his eyes and pretend he’s asleep. They will paw at him, push him, lick him. None of it matters. He’s oblivious. Sometimes, he seems longsuffering. Other times, he seems stubborn.

He uses this with his humans as well. If we want to put him in the kennel, and he doesn’t want to be there, he refuses to move. Quite literally, he becomes as water. Completely limp. The effects are comical as we drag him (gently) across the bed or the sofa or the floor. He is a conscientious objector. He is passive resistance incarnate. If you try to pick him up, his limp dead weight is hard to lift. If he slips from your grasp, he sinks back into the sofa, only for the cycle to begin again.

Chi is illustrating the overcoming of adversity with the humor of a sage. Water has no real substance; it flows, it moves, it molds to hard substances. And, over time, it carves stone. Water is the ultimate example of acting without acting. We can do the same, by flowing through difficult situations. If chaos is exploding around you, remaining low to the ground and flowing with the tide will serve you well. You can observe, witness from this place.

All this, from “doing nothing.”

be water