Waterfall

‘There is a hidden message in every waterfall. It says if you are flexible, falling will not hurt you.’ Mehmet Murat Ildan.

As a child and then into my adult life I often felt a sadness that I could not explain. It was deep rooted, as if nothing could ever make me feel settled or comfortable within myself. I longed for something to truly make me happy.

The Portuguese have a term for this which is ‘saudade’. There is no direct translation into English for this word.

But I must explain more clearly. I have had some wonderful experiences in my life. Some things that have given me great memories that I will treasure. My childhood home was a stable, happy home. My early adult life had its turbulence, I suppose, like for most young people but I kept jobs, got promotions, had healthy relationships, studied and learnt new things. As I got older I met my future wife, became a father, bought and sold houses and began new career ventures. And now we live in Portugal with the hope of a bright, exciting future. All of these things have helped me to be happy. But, especially in my earlier life, that sadness in the pit of my core would not vanish completely. It was like a whoosh of anxiety that really felt like a black cloud hanging over me.

In recent years I have discovered ways to help me feel differently. To take away those anxieties.

Exercise and weight training became my release. Damaging muscle fibres in order for them to regenerate was a whole lot better way of self harm than that which had run through my youthful self. And that’s what it felt like. I wanted to punish myself and my body. There were times that I was disgusted at looking at myself in the mirror. Lifting something heavy several times and feeling pain gave me some sort of release.

Then, in later life, as well as keeping an exercise training routine (but a much more positive one these days), I began to meditate. This has enabled me to control my breathing from the core and, knowing that this is where the whooshy anxiety comes from, really helps me to address it from deep within.

Staring At The Waterfall

There’s this image that I had, and seemingly many other people have, that meditation is about sitting cross legged, eyes closed and hands in a certain pose. It is often associated with Buddhism or other religious practices. And there is also this perception of meditation being done in a dark quiet room, perhaps accompanied with chimes or flute music.

Whilst all of these can be done during meditating, it is certainly not my usual go-to style. Today, I stood by a waterfall. I was with my family, so the kids were their usual rowdy selves. It didn’t deter me. For a few moments, I was mesmerized by the sight, sounds and the smells of this waterfall. Every drop of water danced differently to the next. Each sound I captured went from a trickle to a splash. The smell felt fresh, sometimes the scent of a sandy beach caught my attention.

I said that I was mesmorized for a few moments. The truth is it could’ve been just ten seconds or it could have been minutes. I’m not sure. But I soon became aware of the kids strangling each other so I sorted that little issue out before taking a few pictures!

Over the past few years as I have pursued this journey of self enlightenment I have learnt one big lesson. I need to be flexible in nurturing my emotions. Sometimes I trickle. Sometimes I splash. There’s no right or wrong way.

I now know that this deep rooted sadness cannot harm me. I can live for the moment, whether I’m trickling or splashing, and be grateful and happy with my life.

Today I felt like I was the waterfall. And we could argue on whether or not looking at a waterfall is actually meditation, but my conclusion would be that if you have to think about this then you are losing the magic of the moment. Call it what you like. As long as we can take a moment to realise the beauty in something that we might otherwise take for granted. A singing bird. The rustling of a tree. Or a waterfall.

I’ve discovered that it is not what I look at that matters, it is what I see (or hear, touch and smell). I can look at a waterfall that I pass most days, but what I see when I actually take that moment is a work of beauty, history, a creation that tells me a story. It speaks to me.

So my flexibility of thought has enabled me to see, not just look. And maybe I will pass this waterfall a dozen times again and look at it, but I know that when I need to, I will actually see it.

This is what keeps my anxiety away.