Living

“The river is resting,” he says.

“Yes, it’s healing, and it’s beautiful to witness,” I reply.

We paddle upstream from Rio Vista Park. Such beauty. The canopy of trees shades us as we take in Mother Earth in all her glory, sharing the cool clear water with our fish and turtle friends- a living, breathing, beautiful part of magical, mystical creation.

The green canopy gives way to bright sunshine. I raise my face and take it in. Completely present. Right here, right now.

I paddle to the bank, and park my board. I swim. Moving through the water, one with Mother Earth.

Completely, totally, utterly alive, I watch my children as they navigate the San Marcos River. What else is there but this right here? What else matters but what is right now? Nothing. Nothing else.

There isn’t much a pandemic is good for. Except rest. And reflection. Ultimately, a reset. It was the promise of this reunion and the dream of holding my four in my arms, this annual river baptism, that got me through. Faith. Pure faith. That summer would see us together, safe and sound.

My darlings, right now is all we ever really own. And faith is the bridge to all of our tomorrows.

The sweetness of this moment is not lost on me. I know full well what it means. Faith in motion, giving way to the sound of laughter, feeling cool liquid life on my skin… this is living.