So I’m this little brook and I really, really want to get to the ocean. Because that’s where all the water goes, and I really want to get to where all the other water droplets have gone. And all around me are these beautiful trees or tall grasses and reeds, and it’s all lush, golden and green and I’m flowing and dancing over rocks and weaving through small boulders. And it’s so lovely because I’ve got this beautiful view on either side and sometimes there’s a log that falls across me like a bridge, or there’s an actual bridge. So the little animals and children can run across me to get to the other side. Sometimes they scurry back and forth and play games. Sometimes they just stand at a halfway point and admire everything as if they’re seeing the world for the first time. It’s really wonderful here; It’s almost timeless.
So I’m this little brook but I really want to get to the river, because once I’m at the river I’m halfway there. And then it’s the big ocean for me. So I get to the river and it’s kind of nice here as well. It’s wider and the water’s rougher in some parts and there are waterfalls which are actually really fun because they’re like Mother Nature’s water parks. There’s still a lovely view on either side of trees and hills and mountains in the distance. But still, I really do just want to get to the ocean because that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it?
So finally I get to the ocean one day. I get to the ocean and I’m so thrilled that I’ve finally reached my destination. I get to the ocean and I pour all of myself into it and I flow and flow until I’m somewhere in the deep blue center of it all. But now there’s hardly any scenery, save for an endless blue sky meeting an endless body of water. But there are no rocks or boulders to climb or dance around. There are no children playing here, hardly any life is visible at surface level, and I’m even getting a bit seasick now. And you know, now I can’t help but wonder, because I’m a bit disappointed. I’m a bit let down about the whole thing. I heard such wonderful stories about this place, about finally making it, about finally arriving. There was so much anticipation and so much promise.
But now I miss the children. I miss the laughter. I miss the birds perched on tree branches. I miss the swaying reeds and I miss the view. I miss the view so much. I never really bothered to get a good look at that view, and now all I have is this blue canvas of a sky to fill in with my own imagination and memories. But it’s not quite the same thing, is it?
