Where Two Rivers Meet

Where two rivers meet, two mighty forces of nature collide. The once steady undercurrent is replaced with a churning, chaotic, and turbulent eddy. The rivers are forced to change course or cease to flow. Change is natural.

From the weather and the seasons, to our interests and goals, change is how the world operates. The artist Nick Cave wrote, “people often talk about being scared of change, but for me, I’m more afraid of things staying the same ’cause the game is never won by standing in any one place for too long.” I believe in change because we must adapt to new information and new experiences everyday, and without change, we are without the forces that make life interesting. Like the river, we too must change when influences beyond our control penetrate our lives.

Life is not stagnant. If we are unwilling to change or adapt, we will be unable to be successful. Transformation is what makes us wise, for wisdom comes not from reading books or going to school but from experience. Like a wise old owl, a mighty river is a wise river. She has had to make many changes throughout her existence. She has had to adapt to new incoming tributaries. She has been forced to assimilate floods, and she has had to endure long periods of drought. One day she too will become a tributary herself, as she passes her experiences and lessons on to the sea.

Life is like a river. It’s a cliche, but it’s true. As we wade through life, we are forced to amend our course. These experiences allow us to continue to grow, as well as keep us young. We do not become “old” because of time. We become “old” because we cease to change. True “adulthood” is stagnant, repetitive, and ultimately mind-numbingly dull. To be “young at heart” is to continue to revolutionize, revitalize, and re-humanize ourselves. But change is not easy. It often rears its head when we are least able to cope with it, and we find ourselves treating it with contempt instead of acceptance, or at least acquiescence. I too am guilty of deriding change, but in the end, it makes me a better human being. My eldest daughter was born with Spinal Muscular Atrophy-Type II, a neuromuscular condition that makes her physically weak and unable to walk. Like the river absorbing a flash flood, I was forced to absorb new information, new procedures, and new challenges or fail as a parent and ultimately a human being. She is eleven now, and although I am far from the perfect parent, I can say with pride that I have been a good one. Change may have scarred me with her sharp blade, but she has also has made me wise.

I believe in change because I believe that when two rivers meet they must transform in order to integrate each other. Often that transformation creates the turbulent rapids that so many of us fear. But the rapids are fun; the white-water spray is invigorating; the navigation is challenging, and the successful riding of the rapids is rewarding. Our lives will become calm and predictable once more, just as the river will flow tranquil and graceful again until the next time she is forced to change.