River Guides

     The water was not deep, but it was cold and fast. My left hand clutched the back of my husband's shirt. My right hand clutched my walking stick for dear life. " Please honey walk slowly," my husband implored. Patiently he continued, "Always keep two points down, it can be the stick and a foot or both feet, and breathe. You can even stop and rest." For once, I followed his advice. I breathed. I rested.  I stopped thrashing; I did not send us both into the Provo River.

Come on in! The water's fine.

     When I look at the world around me, it is like the rushing Provo River. We are proud of how busy we are. It is easy to get caught up in politics and social issues and well, thrashing. How does one avoid this? As a mother of a young man, I mull this over often. We have tried to teach him to put people above things, think independently and to value rest.
     Whether you are crossing the Provo or navigating life, who you travel with matters. My husband can infuriate me, but I trust him completely. He encourages me, but he also tells me when I am wrong. I am fortunate to be blessed with a handful of very dear friends and sisters that would drop everything for me and I would do the same for them. Quality, not quantity, of traveling companions is key.
     Thinking independently can be hard for young and old. I know people who have beautifully appointed homes. I enjoy lovely things. My rental home looks like college students live here. But I have to remind myself why I moved here: I moved here to help my son and get in-state tuition. So I need to be careful not to confuse my goals with somebody else's. Yet my husband shares my goals and that speaks to having solid companions.  As I get older, I tend to form more friendships based on values and not just common interests.
     Rest makes any crossing smoother. When I quiet my mind in meditation or prayer. I get ideas and solutions that are not part of my active mind. The enduring part of me, my soul, needs quiet to tune into the Creator. This channel is also opened by time in nature, music and the arts.
     Sometimes the news makes me want to throw my hands up in despair. What kind of world are we leaving to our children? But then, I stop myself and I remember that this planet is a school for spiritual growth. Without challenges, we would be slower to refine ourselves. Without darkness, we wouldn't cling to the light.
     The more important question is this: What kind of children are we leaving this world? If my messy rental home raises a kind hearted river guide, I will have done my job.