The River
by Anthony deMello - Wellspring
I look up at the sky and see the morning star
burn brightly in the heavens.
I imagine what it sees as it looks down
on me and my surroundings and this portion of the earth.
I visualize what it must have seen
a thousand years ago today...
five thousand...
a hundred thousand...
five million years ago.
I attempt to see in fantasy what the morning star will see
a thousand years...
five thousand years...
a hundred thousand...
five million years from now on the anniversary of this day.
I pass in review the various stages of my life -
infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, middle age -
in the following fashion:
I search for the things that seemed immeasurably important
at these stages of my life,
things that caused me worry and anxiety,
things that I stubbornly clung to,
that I thought I could never live with or without.
When I look back from the distance of today,
how many of those loves and dreams and fears
retain the hold they had on me in former years?
Then I review
some of the problems that I have today,
some of my present sufferings,
and of each of them I say,
"This too will pass away."
I think of things I cling to or that I am possessive of.
I realize that a day must surely come
when I shall see them differently.
So of each of these attachments too I say,
"This too will pass away."
I make a list of the many things I fear,
and of each of them I say,
"This too will pass away."
To end, I see myself embarking on my daily tasks
with the earnestness and fervor
with which I plunge into a drama
or a game,
absorbed, immersed, but never drowning.