A river stands before you. For your entire life, it has enticed you. The water is clear and blue with sounds of gushing water echoing in all directions. Fish dart to and fro. Animals rest at its banks. The river gives life to all. Even you, living near this river, experience the life it gives. As you ponder the meaning of the river, unseen forces pull the water down the channel to its final destination. Where does the river go? Even with no map or guide, you can trust that wherever the river flows, it will be to some larger river or ocean — to some greater understanding. It calls you.
Those around you warn of all of the unknowns. It causes you to become fearful, yet something pulls you forward. You ponder if you want to leave this life behind — to jump into the river. You decide no and continue your life as part of your tribe for several years. Over those years, you see that there are now rocks blocking the once free flow of the river. You wonder where the rocks came from. Why were they placed in the river? It no longer entices you as it once did. You’ve settled into your life with a high amount of dependency. The river isn’t safe anymore.
Your tribe is now part of a larger community of tribes. Each one contributing to the survival of the other. Together, the tribes are stronger but more interdependent. You spend your days tending to the crops and your nights listening to stories around the campfire. One such story is of a man who once traveled down the river. The storyteller spoke of the man’s trials and tribulations. He was said to have made a lot of sacrifices on his trip but gained a new understanding. The storyteller explained how the man sacrificed his life and tribal connection for a new understanding. It was said that the man returned from his journey and made a camp far from his tribes’ boundaries.
You wait until the story is finished and others are returning to their huts. Approaching the storyteller, you ask if such a man truly exists. Was it just a story? The man responded, “If such a man did exist, he would have many stories to tell.” The man winks, turns, and walks away. What did he mean by this? Is he the man from down the river? You chase after the man, but he has disappeared in thick tree cover.
A few more years pass and you notice even more rocks are in the river. Large boulders have appeared. The water is now brown and dirty, instead of clear and blue. Over the years, men came from a more civilized world and brought with them magical slabs and the control of fire and light. You can now experience the world from your home. The temptation and opportunity of the civilized world is beyond your wildest imagination.
The river does not entice you anymore.
One night you decide to sit by the river, remembering what once was. A man approaches from behind you — the storyteller had returned. The question still lingered in your mind. Was he the riverman? You ask. He nods in response. You ask what he learned on his journey. He responds, “This journey is one which you must follow for yourself. You are a longing man. You wish to find the answers, but cannot break your shackles.” He motions to the village and the new light installed near the village center. “There is much for you there — many responsibilities and distractions.” He pats you on the back and makes his way to the campfire for another one of his story sessions.
You continue to stare at the river. Moonlight sparkles in the current. Eyes glow in the darkness of the distant shore. You ponder once again where the river leads. Could there still be clear waters? You lower your head and make your way to the campfire — listening to someone else’s story yet again.
