Essay, Research Paper: A Separation Of Life

A Separation of Life

Water, the median of life. Growing up in a small town nestled tightly
in the arms of the wasatch front, I learned early the importance of
nature. There was a fine line drawn between religion and the
outdoors, and the quest of my life was to determine an appropriate
balance. Water, signifying the line between the spiritual and physical,
played an important role in my secular teachings. Cutting through the
center of town it was the very phenomenon that I had grown to love,
the river. Soul restored and imagination stirred, the words of the river
echoed the marks of God. Although by nature I stood alone,
untutored and untouched, the waters of life left me free to
understand the natural side of God's order. With its flowing properties
and unbridled passion to move forward, the water was my spirit.

An old weathered palm tree emerged from the seemingly impenetrable
sandy beach. I leaned back against its rough surface as the waves of
the emerald blue ocean slowly crawled to my feet. They lapped
relentlessly against the shore as if trying to take me back with them.
The wind blew gently over the top of the distant incoming waves as
they mirrored back the competing rays of sun. With each reflection, I
narrowly squinted my eyes and continued to marvel at this
picturesque interaction of color and beauty.

I raised my hand to my brow, wiping off the beads of sweat that
saturated my face. As my fingers moved across my sensitive skin, I
could tell the sun had left its mark. I felt their was no escaping the
blanket of rays only the clouds above seemed to be able to control.
The pain was uncomfortable, but disappeared quickly as I scooped up
the cool water and splashed it on my face.

I knew that I could not drink the seemingly infinite volume of water
which surrounded me, so I headed for a nearby stream. Kneeling
down, I penetrated the stream with cupped hands and raised the
fresh water to my dry lips. I was unable to control the water as it
sifted through my fingers and ran down my arms, as if trying to
escape back to the stream. I licked my salty lips and drank. I had
never before tasted a more refreshing drink of water. This euphoric
experience was one that I savored, as I reached for a second
handful.

There have been few experiences throughout my life that I remember
more vividly than of that day on the beach. I often think about where
the water would flow, and who would be the recipient of its aqueous
forgiveness. This simple stream had been the solution to my
unquenchable need for sustenance. My connection, as if umbilical,
was met when I broke the skin of mother natures body to partake of
her life giving substance. But, something separated me from that
world which existed internally beneath the stream. This was the first
spiritual encounter I remembered having with water. The thoughts of
these experiences connected my inner most soul with the interaction
of beauty and nature. Not a nature that I fully understood , but an
understanding of the line that connects the perfection of life to a
spiritual world. Eventually all things merged into one, and I would
understand both physical and spiritual, but until then I would be left
untutored.

All existence seems to fade into a being. Memories past and present,
would leave with them impressions of the future. These memories
always brought me back to the river which cut through my town, and
the water which had brought me closer to the line of spirituality.

The blanket of life stretched across the valley as the wind blew
calmly over the tops of the trees. I fastened my khaki green bag to
my shoulder as I slowly released the tension of my line sending the
small hook end over end into the water. The occasional silver flash of
light broke through the undercurrent of water as I pulled my hook
over the rocks and twigs that extended through the river body.

Fishing was something that I enjoyed more than anything. I had
spent much of my growing up years slipping on the rocks that lined
the bottom of this riverbed like mosaic tiles. Although it had been
quite some time since I had visited "the river", the smooth sound of
the water as it meandered by welcomed me back. As the sun beat
down, racing its way through the trees, I was reminded of the
experiences I had with the stream before. Taking the fresh cool
water and dripping it down my neck, I realized what draws me to
these majestic places. To understand this barrier of life, a barrier that
separated me from this underworld of water.

I stood on the outside trying to pull some piece of intricate life from
this world I knew nothing about. Motivated to understand this
spiritual nature, the worlds converged into one, a world of life. The
simple existence of the stream brought the very compulsive questions
that caused me to wonder. Just as I didn't understand its exact
purpose thousands of miles away, or even one hundred yards up
stream, I knew its effect on me here and now would leave its
impression.

Running over rocks, squeezing though cracks, and providing the
essential elements of life were the unwavering properties of the
water. Although interacting with its surroundings for just a moment,
the river would leave its mark, carrying on its way of life, never
knowing where it would end, or if it ever ended.