Kathy challenges to write about…
The Power of Water
floating. flying. freedom.
Water fascinates me and when I was young, I would always pester my mother to bring me to the pool. She would sit at the bench under the shade while I frolicked in the pool — it gave me a sense of freedom, a sense of flying in the sky when I closed my eyes.
So while my friends watched football or basketball competitions, drama series and latest fashion trends, I was watching water. And flowing water tops my chart every time. I have lost count of how many times I was scolded for wasting water when I just turned on the shower and watched the water flow.
Bit of a fetish, if you ask me.
Later, this fascination morphed in waterfalls. Once again, there were countless times when I would walk past waterfalls, man-made or natural, and I would pause just to stare at the running water.
I simply feel a sense of peace which I could not get from anything else. The quiet manner in which it flows, finding its way to rejoin the pool at the bottom. The flow of the water is an methodical turbulence — or chaotic order, depending on my mood.
But the audiovisual presentation of waterfalls never fails to impress upon me a sense of fluidity, or to be more accurate, a sense of change without changing. Water is in a constant state of change but I never notice the change.
Perhaps that idea is what shapes my perspective regarding people, that they can change without changing, that what is presented and what is behind is never the same. And I just go along with whichever face people present.
If it is still, it is water; if it is moving, it is wave. And it can sail or capsize a boat. That is the power of water. The power of ocean known as my heart. It was not until I have the freedom to travel to different countries do I understand the wild side of nature.
That a wise boatman either learns how to navigate in the rapids or steer clear of them entirely. That even if the surface looks calm, there are strong undercurrents or eddy currents which could drown a boatman, unless he learns to go with or against the flow.
That some people can look at you in the face and smile even as they stab you in the back.
So if it is still, I sit back and relax as I float in the ocean; if it is moving, I row and paddle as I flow along with the ever-changing currents. No matter where it goes or how tough the journey is, water is going to end up in the same place — in the pool at the bottom.
If I cannot fight it, at least I have the freedom to enjoy.
In response to Kathy’s response:
Thank you for meandering with me through this piece of writing.