Living like water today, this minute, for me, means being part of the frozen landscape.  It means, watching the birds flit from leafless branch to leafless branch, looking for a haven from the cold arctic wind that blows, and shakes the bare branches clean of even the birds.

It mean, watching the snow blow across the yard, when it’s not snowing, but appears to be blizzarding, unless you look up and see the blue sky.  It means, quietude, and emptiness, and barren scenes of white and brown and gray.  It means solitude, time not stopped but non-existent.  No memories that can color the landscape, nor dreams.  Just now, with myself, in this moment.

Typing, calling an old friend, planning a dinner.  Keeping thoughts here and now, so as not to undo the uneasy peace which has been made within, to let the past go, and not to dream dreams.  To forgive, but not to forget.  To love, but not to lose myself. To find beauty and revel in it, but not try to hold onto it.  To acknowledge pain and feel it, but let it move through me.

To let it all come and go.  To let it flow, or stay frozen, let it blow, or seep into the ground, but not to add or take from what is.  To accept it, to surrender to the forces that have control, which are not within me.  To melt into the tapestry of what is, and be an integral part of something greater, and go within the flow of the one thing to wherever I am supposed to be.