The Stream

The power of the stream is suppressed with obstacles of all kinds: heartbreaks, unfinished business, unexpected misfortune. Who could possibly flow with any kind of vigor? If one fails to move his stream, no one will visit or observe his work. It would be like visiting a bathtub. Totally still. So I push over and around the obstacles; or at least attempt to. The flow is not achieved at the obstacle but the time washing over it. This is where the diary entry fails. It attempts to flow when there is a dam up. Wait for the dam to fail or disappear and then push on. You will find the dam crushed into an enjoyable collection of cube shaped rocks. Babble over them and move onto the next obstacle. It isn’t insurmountable, just bigger. Every time it is bigger. Take discomfort in the mystery of when it is actually arriving, or rather when you are arriving at it. Keep pushing. If you go with the flow you will be trapped at one obstacle, presumably forever. This will go on and on and on, and you will not be thanked for your efforts. The only value in your life is the texture of the boulders and walls you pour over. Take note of them, so that no one reads them.