The River and the Damn

One of the challenges I've faced over the past year or so has been an undiagnosed intestinal disorder with some rather distressing, embarrassing and scary symptoms. Part of my treatment plan involves the donated services of a family friend, Ronni, who is a professional massage therapist.

These massages, for me at least, are not just relaxing rubdowns, its a time when I let my mind do some directed-wandering, and it usually leads to some insightful thoughts, even some revelations. Plus it has had a very positive effect on my health.

During one of these sessions I was inspired by a mental image that made a great metaphor for my life at various times, particularly now, and its one I think a lot of people can relate to, even benefit from understanding, so I'm going to share it.

A person's life can be compared to a water. Like a river, it follows the path of least resistance, but as it does it also effects the ground where it flows, eroding away the soil and creating a deeper path for itself. Also, like a river, it can be diverted through conscious actions or accidents and uncontrollable events.

Growing up I usually just followed the path of least resistance (my parents would disagree, I'm sure!), few of my choices seemed consequential. Then my girlfriend got pregnant, a couple years later I got custody of my son. At that moment I made a decision to make him the central factor in my life, the prime consideration around which all decisions were made.

This was the equivalent to building a dam in the river of my life. I spent time and energy erecting a wall, which controlled the flow of the river, creating a relatively calm lake. This is not a bad or good thing, it just was. Years pasted and the calm lake that became my life grew wider and deeper, but it did not go anywhere, the dam prevented that.

Then a series of events, including a turn in the economy, the loss of a long term relationship and the approach of my son's high school graduation all happened close together. The first two events were the equivalent of nature and other lives damaging the dam I had built. The third factor informed my decision about whether or not to repair the damn. I chose not to.

The results were inevitable. Like water flowing through a crack in a real dam, the water that was my life poured through these new cracks in my damn. Slowly at first, but more quickly as the effects of erosion expanded the cracks into a holes.

The calm lake behind the damn began to drain, the trickling stream on the other side began to rising and expand and the dam grew weaker. One day the constant erosion of the dam lead to a huge chunk falling loose. This chunk took the form of my house being foreclosed on. Again I had to decide, I could not ignore the hole in the dam.

Should I now work hard to repair it? Allow it to erode away at its own pace? Or should I help in the dismantling? On the one side of the dam was the calm, familiar, stable life I had know for so long, on the other side was a growing river leading off into the unknown (but which was already developing an attraction of its own for me.) This was a turning point for me. I choose to let the dam come down.

When a dam breaks from erosion it is a process of increasing chaos. The cracks expanded, the flow of water grew from a trickle to a violent torrent, rushing through and tearing chunks of the damn away to be washed down the river and swallowed up. My life became equally chaotic, unstable, exciting and scary, all at once.

Eventually, enough the dam was mostly gone and the flow of water, while still increasing, began to smooth out on the surface while still eroding the dam beneath the surface.The period of noise and chaos had passed. The lake was all but drained and only remnants of the dam remained. Now my life was on a new path, flowing into the unknown.

I know the river can be dammed again, if I choose, to form a lake or diverted to follow a different path. It may be damned or diverted by events I cannot control. But the old lake is nearly gone, and in time will be only a memory, time having erased all the evidence of its existence.

River or lake, it does not matter, life goes one. The point is that life just flows. We can flow with it or direct it, or do some of each. Transitions will usually be chaotic and lasting changes, like a dam, takes effort to create and constant maintenance.

I built my dam by choosing to be a parent, I choose to stay in one place like a lake, letting my life become broad and deep behind the damn. Now I choose the opposite, to let my life flow forward into the unknown. Narrower, but faster and with constantly changing scenery. One is no better than the other, just different, and both were my choice.

In the Begining...

I've had an interesting life, at least I think so. Not interesting in the epic adventure or overcoming a tragedy sort of way. Interesting in the everyday sort of way. Its not over either, not by a long shot, but I've seen and learned enough to feel I have something to share, which I realize is a sort of conceit, but then anyone who blogs harbors that same conceit, believing anyone else cares what they have to say.

But I don't come to this only of my own conceit. Someone,  whose opinion I value very much, recently told me two things: First, that I am a teacher, that one of my purposes in life is to teach (whether anyone listens is another matter.) Second, she told me I should write a book about all the things I've learned in this past year.

Well, I'm not sure how to go about writing a book, so I'll just blog instead and maybe a book will come out of it. In the mean time... Well, there's this.

I guess I should start by giving you, the reader, some idea who I am. I am a 38 year old American man. When I was 20 I became a father by an older woman who, depending on which of several versions of her story you believe, trapped me by getting pregnant of purpose.

When I was 23, she gave up custody of my son to me (with about 2 hours notice), deciding it was too hard to raise a child on her own. I don't think she thought it would be any easier for me to do it alone, just that it would be easier for her to not have to do it at all. So for the last 15 years I have been raising my son.

Eight years ago I started my own business in the housing industry. Five years ago I bought my own house. Four years ago my girlfriend moved in. Two years ago the housing and credit markets began to collapse and my business began to fail. One year ago, my girlfriend left me. Two months ago my house was foreclosed on. And five weeks from now my son will graduate high school.

To most people this may sound like a sad time in my life, but on the contrary it is quite joyous. I am happier and more alive than I have felt in a more than a decade. Despite being unemployed, broke, soon to be homeless, approaching forty, and also soon to be an empty nester, this is probably the greatest time in my life. Because I am in love with a wonderful woman, I am finally free to pursue my own dreams and I have nothing to loose or hold me back. And none of this would have come about if I had not lived through every moment of hardship up until now.

Through out my life I've learned a lot of 'life lessons.' Maybe it because my life has been a bit more than ordinary, or maybe I'm more thoughtful than others, or maybe I'm just conceited enough to think both. What ever the reason, I feel I've learned a lot that I'd like to share with anyone who will listen, particularly if they will benefit from my experiences and thoughts.