Water finds its own course passing ever downwards.
Although it is easy enough to imagine that rivers and stream might have a spirit that guides water in its meanders, or path over falls and rapids, it is driven by gravity. Unlike individuals, or groups, that might try to find the path of least resistance, water has no such motive or even consciousness of an intention. When a river rises and falls, it might find the memory of tracks it had carved before, or discover new trajectories.
On a hot summer’s day, it is just fine standing momentarily absent from cares in cool waters, watching gentle ripples on the surface catch the glistening sun, or be refracted into patterns on the sand beneath.
Sometimes I wished on reflection for an absence of consciousness like water, or perhaps, an easier path to the sea.
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