Dipping your toes into the familiar water, you flex them. Feel the water flowing between them. You arch them upward, feeling the water rush through your toes, below the ball of your foot and down your heel.
It is familiar, this stream.
You repeat the process with your other foot, then slowly walk into the deeper parts, feeling it eddie behind your calves. It licks at the back of your knee, washes over your thighs, between them. You have a choice now, a choice as to whether you’re going to wade in and shrink against every drop of water, or you’re going to dive in.
I always dive in. There are no half measures. There can be no half measures. You’re either committed to going in, or you stay where it’s nice and dry. You’re either committed to what you are doing or not, there is no in between.
From the stream, you get to the river, from the river, the ocean – that is the flow. The conditions for that flow other people have written about, so there’s no sense writing about it here. But suddenly, you’re there and you can go as deep as you want to.
This is what it is. Returning to land, I am back in one of my flows – massive amounts of information, judgement calls, pushing things forward with a commitment that doesn’t make sense to some.
It makes sense to me, and it all makes sense to me. It’s part of the flow. This is me.
This is where I belong. This is what I need to do.