I am at a point in my life where I’m just beginning to understand the concept of “abiding” or “dwelling” in a situation. I’m working on a book that explores the annunciation, and what jumped out at me (among other things) is how cool, calm, and collected Mary was.
Faced with a situation, while exciting, also seemed impossible and frankly, dangerous. Yet, she kept the words in her heart. She pondered. In more modern vernacular, she "flowed.”
In other words, she didn’t react, cut off Gabriel with a million questions, and didn’t try to have it all figured out, immediately. And then she said, “let it be done.” That, my friends, is some serious, quiet strength and faith.
So I watched the “rain” fall from my bathroom and living room ceilings the other morning. By God’s grace, my only reaction was to shut off the water main, and put out buckets. And, amazingly, I pondered, too.
The neighbor upstairs, in a rush to leave for work at 5am, left his bathroom faucet running with the drain stopped. That is what happened, along with a few bulges in my living room ceiling as it strained under the weight of collecting water.
Perhaps it was realizing that I was, in the grand scheme of things, not living in the nightmare of the California wildfires. Relatively speaking, this was going to be a minor inconvenience. Time to go with the flow, along with the water.
Since then, demo has begun, and no doubt, it’s (as one of the contractors described) disarray. I will need to vacate for a few weeks as well, but I also have that covered, thanks to great insurance company, and an even better friend.
I keep thinking of the irony of water. How it’s so desperately needed in the Palisades, and how it created its own little havoc in my condo. People have asked me how I’m dealing with this (pardon any perceived pun) current situation, and I think my first answer would be, “Color me amused.”
As human beings, we’re about 2/3 water ourselves. We too have flow, and every present moment we are current. The interesting thing about current is that it keeps things moving. In fact, when a reservoir’s level is so low it cannot move water, it’s called a dead pool. It means certain drought for other things downstream and leaves the animals that rely on its flow to stress in their search for water.
I think the worst thing I could have done is hang onto the current situation and its questions, and have the pressure build up like the bulge that appeared in my ceiling. At some point, you break and waste a lot of energy, perhaps causing more damage as you gush.
Heraclitus, an ancient Greek philosopher, is often quoted with a truly profound statement. He said “No man ever steps into the same river twice.” True on its face, as the current keeps the water moving downstream and the water you touch is gone in an instant.
It’s also a deeper truth about us. We are new every day, we are changed every day, and hopefully for the better. Our lessons from yesterday shape us today. We are not meant to be dead pools, but reservoirs that take in and release whatever is current.
It’s possible I will have a moment where I collect water, and gush a little. For know I vow to flow, and let the current continue to take its course.