Take Me To The River

When I say the word "river" what do you think about? Go ahead.  Close your eyes. Take a minute.



For me it's this explosion of songs lyrics and sounds and memories and movie scenes and smells and feelings and peace and longing....

I immediately hear Tina Turner busting out "people on the river are happy to give" followed by the beautiful scene in Big Fish where the Dad makes his final journey to the river. Songs from my childhood flood my head "I've got peace like a river" "The water is wide" "Let's go down to the river to pray". I see Meryl Streep looking smoking hot navigating rapids like a boss in The River Wild immediately followed by the cool glass of water that is Brad Pitt in A River Runs Through It. I hear the laughter of my friends followed by the endless popping of beer cans. I feel the little rocks in my river shoes, the sun burning through my sunscreen and coloring my skin and the tingle of the icy cold water as I dip my hand in over the edge of my bright red canoe.

During Shavasana (relaxing time) in yoga I often visualize myself at the river and it immediately calms me. I feel a strong spiritual connection to the river. So it doesn't surprise me that most of the world's major religions regard rivers as sacred spaces. Jesus was baptized in the river. Millions of Hindus make a pilgrimage to the Ganges river in order to be purified of their sin. Zoroastrians are encouraged to refrain from urinating or washing in the sacred waters of rivers. So, this Sunday I made a little pilgrimage of my own to the sacred waters of the Jacks Fork River near Eminence, MO and the healing company of my closest friends.

Every year I travel to the south central town of Winona, MO to gather with some unbelievably awesome people and celebrate the birth of one of my closest friends, Lacey. Winona is as small as it sounds with a population of around 1,330 people. There's a small grocery store, a gas station and Dollar General, the coolest general store you've ever been to in your life called Jack's, The Apple Barrel Inn (where we stayed) and a gem of an eatery called Flossie's (where I sang karaoke Saturday night and had an absolutely marvelous time.) It's a small town with salt of the earth small town people and it's located right near several beautiful Missouri rivers. Lacey's friends gather from various other Missouri towns and spend a few days causing trouble in Winona and then we spend a day floating the river.

This pic is from a few years ago. I didn't bring my iPhone
on the river.

Ahhh, the river.

On Sunday morning I arose to a knock at my hotel door. I stumbled out of bed and let my two hungover friends in without speaking and immediately crawled back into my bed. I'm not going to the river. Ugh. I'm so tired.

Saturday had been a whirlwind adventure of errand running and food prepping and day drinking and excessive eating and playing with kids and tie dying and rock painting and afternoon drinking and karaoke singing and late night drinking and dumpster diving and run-ins with the police and glow stick dance floor dance parties and walking back to the hotel and passing out. So, come Sunday morning none of us were quite certain how we would be able to function on the river.

Wrangling 13 people, kayaks, canoes, coolers, and all the river supplies that go along with a day float ain't no easy task. There's a lot of - "oh wait, i forgot..." "can we stop here?" "who has my..." "do we have enough beer? should we stop and get more beer? perhaps just one more case of beer, just to be safe?"  BUT eventually we made it to the river. It's an exciting moment - putting your fully loaded canoe in the water after spending all morning working to make it happen.

Time stops on the river. There are no schedules to keep. There are very few rules to follow - no glass, no littering and help out when you can. There's no vanity on the river. You can wear your camo or multiple clashing floral patterns and giant sunhat (me) or your tiny bikini or your cutoffs and tank top or whatever the hell you want, because it's the river and don't nobody care what you wear on the river. You just sit back, relax, drink a beer (or 12) and take in the the beauty that surrounds you.

This is my kind of church - friends. booze. nature. peace.

They say the river is a metaphor for life (I don't know who "they" are, writers and stuff, just go with it). I would have to agree. You could probably substitute the word "life" for every time I mention "the river" and it would sound spot on accurate. The river (life) is certainly a breathtaking journey but it ain't always easy...

This is also old. Last year. Me being SO over pictures.
And my friends loving every minute.

There were lots of obstacles during our river journey this year. Some were caused by the natural way of the river, but others were a result of our own humanness (tired, inexperienced and intoxicated). Though deemed safe for floating, the Jacks Fork waters were fairly low causing us to get stuck on gravel beds multiple times. This meant either digging yourself out with your paddle, getting out and pulling your vessel, or praying someone else would come along and give you a push. Yup. Sounds like life to me.

Other times were a bit scarier. The river isn't to be taken lightly. It can be shallow and still at one point and then fast and dangerous just around the bend. Storms had knocked some trees into the waters making our adventure even more exciting. Trying to navigate around some tight spots resulted in several of my group's canoes tipping over. It's terrifying to watch your friends topple over into the water, knowing there is nothing you can do in that moment. They are going over. All you can do now is help them pick up the pieces. (Are you getting all these life references?)

It's in these moments that people bond closer together. It's one of the many magical things about the river. After the canoe is drained and all the stuff returned safely inside, we would sit on the gravel bank, share a drink and a smoke and those who experienced the danger would retell their story and share their feelings while the rest of us listened with a supportive ear.

I got to try out kayaking for the first time this year. It was exciting. I like being in full control, so a kayak is just perfect for me. I tooled off on my own and enjoyed the silence of solitude. Since this was my church service I tried to find some connection with God, but all I could do was take in the bright greens of the tree leaves and the fluffy white puff of the clouds mixed against the blue sky. Then I realized, Wait. It's all God. The river. The birds. The snakes. The trees. The clouds. This beer. My kayak. Me. My friends. Everything. I'm so glad I learned about this whole "Everything is connected. Everything comes from God" thing. It makes finding a connection to God really easy. Then I sipped on my beer and floated slowly along in silence, enjoying my time with God.

I enjoyed the kayak and the solitude for a while, but then I was ready to get back in a canoe with my dear friend Hannah. There's something to be said about who you float down the river with. These are the people who are going to dive into the icy cold water and save you when things get too rough. These are the people you are going to share a single fork with as you hover over a tub of chocolate mousse cake. These are the people who aren't going to judge your fashion choices or shudder at the sight of your pale skin. These are the people who are going to encourage you and support you when you think you are simply too drunk/tired to carry on and have decided to live on a gravel bar forever. You should choose your floating family wisely. Luckily, I was floating down the river with a group of truly exceptional human beings.

 

Exhausted and sore, we reached our destination. Our time on the river was over and we were all kind of relieved. We sat on the bank drinking a victory beer and enjoying what was left of the chocolate mousse cake.

Various photos from river trips in years past. (I'll add this years photos
when someone who took a camera posts them online.)

Sitting on the bank I had one final reflection.  Lately, I've been questioning life, for a variety of reasons. I'm not suicidal, it's not about that. No need to hospitalize me. This is just garden variety "what does it all mean?" stuff. I've been thinking that life is kind of awful and that I hope when it ends it ends for good and we don't have to spend all eternity praising God in Heaven or being reincarnated into yet another body and having to do it all over again. I've been thinking it would be really really wonderful if there was a stopping point and we were just dead. Worm food. Gone. Forever.

But sitting on the bank, I had another thought. The river is a metaphor for life and I keep coming back to the river. Every year. No matter how hard things were or how bad my sunburn was or how many bruises I sustained or how frustrated I got - I keep coming back. Not only that, I look forward to coming back. I get excited. I can't sleep for days. I spend hours thinking about what I want to take with me and what I'll do and all the exciting adventures I'll have.

 

So, life is a hard labor intensive wonderously magical journey, and given the choice, I'll keep coming back for more. I'll just need a year or so to recuperate in between excursions.

 

 

I'll leave you with a Pooh Bear quote that I greatly enjoy...

 

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.