I am a rock in the stream of life. The water passes over me and onto me and tries to permeate my hardened exterior. Only I don’t give into it. Sure over time small fissures will be created by the onslaught of the never ending barrage, for the most part though, I am unmoved.
Occasionally a fish will jump out of the water and I will stare at it in amazement. The beauty of the sunlight glistening off its scales. The majesty of the gleaming streams of colors that fill the air around it. I wonder how long it can last outside of its natural habitat. Then as quickly as it arrived, it disappears once again into the place where it truly belongs. And I feel a void in my existence.
Now and again a turtle will crawl on my sun baked top and lay there and take a nap. It warms itself in the glow of the sun and absorbs the heat I am exuding. The relationship between us is one of mutual benefit. I get some company for a while and the turtle warms its cold blooded body in order to move onward with its life. When it is finally warm or when it gets hungry or curious, it moves on and I am again left alone to enjoy the peace and tranquility of my own existence. And another void forms.
However; on the bad days, not the stormy days in life where a deluge precipitation pelts me from above or the freezing wind, ice and snow try to tear me apart, but the days when birds land on me and try to claim me for their own. They do battle as if I’m some sort of commodity to be bartered and traded for. They make me feel less than what I know I am. Like my existence is only useful if it is being used by them for the advancement of their lives. Days like that are awful. They sit on me, screeching and yelling in a cacophony of sound. As if the louder they become the more important they are. They hope that the largest and loudest gets claiming rights to sit on me and observe the world from my vantage point. Never do they realize that the largest part of me is buried under the stream. I just shake my granite head in frustration of their ignorance and try to ignore them. Which is about the time they start shitting on me. And then they leave. The good thing about when they leave. There is no void I feel
I am alone again. Waiting for a turtle or fish to come by and make my passage through the present as enjoyable as it once was.
This is my Zen. This is why I’m the rock in the stream of time.
Have a great week.