May the River Always Lead

Sitting atop my raft frames, on top of my truck, eating lunch and staring out at the vast expanse of the universe that lies behind, ahead of, and all around me, my soul is at peace. 

I’m somewhere in the Madison River valley, headed for Colorado and eventually to North Carolina, where my mom, and brother, and most of my family and childhood friends live. In the moment it’s easy to imagine that I am still somewhere on the Salmon River, in nothing but a cowboy hat and the Idaho sunshine, but river season is waning and winter is coming to the high country. 

I continue to learn and heal and grow with every day that passes - especially, it seems, if I am in the water. I see now, more than ever, the balances and cycles that exist in the world and in each of us, I hear their rhythms and feel their flow. 

This year has been a hell of a beautiful year, in so many ways that I am sure I do not yet understand them all. Life and death, growth and loss, challenge and possibility have presented themselves as often as the sun and the moon, the light and the dark - and I would suppose they have to all of you as well. 

Like atoms of water in a river, we are all born of the same fathomless blue depths, and we will all return to it. I think what really matters is how we flow through the rocks and the falls, and the deepest, darkest canyons, and where we choose to whirl in eddies or gather calmly along the way. 

With a deliberate and indomitable spirit, I’m headed downstream, and I invite each and every one of you to come and join me in that space — out beyond all of the rules and struggles of modern man, where the water reaches out to meet the cosmos. 

Safety third, and may the river always lead.