A Perfect Gift for Recovery
On Places and People That Connect us to our Soul
Most people have an image of a favorite vacation spot or place they’d rather be, a soulful place of enjoyment and rejuvenation. Mine is a river. I grew up on the banks of the Rhine River, and if I wasn’t next to it, I was always near it. During high school, I took a train along the Rhine to school an hour away. I mostly watched or ferried across it, but once in a while I enjoyed a boat ride along steep vineyards crowned with ancient castles. There’s nothing quite like being on a river. Those experiences stamped a river enchantment on my soul, which I conjure up for this summer’s staycation.
Standing on the banks of a river watching the water and objects course past is inviting but being on a river is enveloping. It’s the difference between observing and participating, like observing time—and your life—pass and immersing yourself in a moment impervious to time. Those are peaceful times. Rivers restore calm, whether it’s swimming in the cold Merced under El Capitan’s imposing walls, rafting over the bumpy rapids of the Gallatin, tubing on the shallow waters of the Madison, or floating on the pulling currents of the Yellowstone. Each has its own magnet, but after careful consideration, I’ve decided the Yellowstone ranks highest on my list of favorite rivers in the West. It takes me back to the quiet pull and persistence of the Rhine.
River magic is a gift placed in an oversized bag with extra presents concealed in the folds of tissue paper. A trip to Montana after surgeries two years ago is such a gift. (I posted a poem and a reflection on another experience like it in previous posts. *) Our friends, Wanda and Paul, prepared a float trip for us on the Yellowstone River. I call Wanda a pioneer woman; she is unafraid and tough, suited for cabin life on a winding gravel road in rural Montana. She and Paul are hard-working DIY kind of people. They do things not only for themselves, but also for others in a quiet, self-effacing way. Some people give to be noticed; others notice to give. Paul and Wanda are the second kind of people. They know the perfect gift for recovery.
Paul’s eye scans the surroundings and people’s needs. He can spot a herd of elk on a distant hill and the desires of his guests with equal acuity. He schleps numerous kayaks from his home-engineered trailer bed to the Yellowstone River. He also brings a float boat, aware that my limitations put me in the observer not participator category. I get the elevated chair and feel like a queen. The others do their shenanigans in their kayaks, and we have a great time. A good thing about my physical limitations is that I notice more, the lofty eagles, riverside creatures, sounds—as Paul steers behind me and points them out—and so I move from observing into participating. All of this because of friends who notice in order to give.
Later Paul hands me a present he made: a framed picture of the river I claim as my favorite. It captures the magic, and the magic still casts its spell today.
*for more click below
https://lifeafterwhy.com/blog/a-staycation-for-the-call-of-the-wild
https://lifeafterwhy.com/blog/experiences-that-chase-away-worry
The Yellowstone River
The Yellowstone is Montana,
Generous, expansive, strong,
Carving banks in curving bends,
Luring, coaxing, bidding.
Swift and solitary, it surges wide,
Past towering trees for lofty birds
On fertile soil of verdant valleys
Ringed by watchful mountains.
Rushing by islets of willow and rock,
It ripples white over stones that sound,
Then drops into quiet waters of promise
For anglers, floaters, watchers, dreamers.
A place where dreams melt pain
And souls connect to God.