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ben-sq Today.

Today I drove to one of my “places”. It would make for a better story if this place was five miles up a logging road, traversing streams to arrive at the top of a mountain… but its not. The actual location of this place is a mile out of town. Turn left off the highway and you get to a park. I have been coming here for over 6 years during my recovery. I’ve written 4th Steps, prayed, meditated and sometimes just cried. This place holds a certain power to me. it always seems to have the first green grass after winter… and so many things have been let go here.

This place has a small creek that runs through. I don’t know if it has name and frankly it doesn’t matter or maybe the fact its nameless makes it even better. There are a number of trees. Big ones, small ones and inbetween ones, all keeping a seemingly respectful distance from one another.

I love the creek. From my vantage point on the right is an old bridge. Its made of concrete and quartzite. It seems to be in a perpetual state of falling apart. Most of the mortar is gone from between the sharp, man chiseled rocks. it creates dark gaps of empty space. The rock above and below these gaps lean towards the earth making the bridge appear to fall infinitely slow back to the earth.

On the left is a natural outcropping of the same rock. As the creek ran into the hill eons ago, it revealed this rock from where it had resided. At this point of intersection, the creek bends softly left. Although this rock’s nature is to be edged and angular, this tiny little creek with no name has softened the edges of this hardness. This little bit of the worlds softest most formless element has gently shaped this hard nature into steps. Into spaces. The angular became curved, the sharp became soft from this tiny bit of water.

This water shaped rock looks inviting. You want to run your hand over the smoothness. You want to sit in the gentle curves and dangle your feet over the creek. In the spaces made by water there are tree roots striving to follow their course, tufts of grass and plants reside in every space made. Its only a small spot on this earth… a small place but it feels very true.

A simple realization occurs. That bridge is of no use anymore. It was forced into place by man with good intentions to cross the creek. It served a purpose for awhile… many have crossed I’m sure. But now it falls slowly. Not with great crashes or ferocity but simply sinks back into the earth. These rocks came from was the earth. Maybe its in there true nature to always return there.

The symbolism was easy from me today in this place…

How many bridges of good intentions have I made to cross the stream? Maybe my journey is to simply wade in that creek or river. To feel my true nature and myself in this life. When I put aside my resentments, my fears, my perceptions, my ego… I can let this river soften my sharpness, let my edges be rounded and to create spaces in me for thriving. Maybe this is me in the flow of life.. to allow… to be… to just realize, right here and right now, the truth of this moment. That I am okay and I am where I am supposed to be.

In this spot the water will always soften the hardest things and that this grass will without fail always turn green again.

Ben Sagmoe

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