As I have continued to hone my fishing skills, I have enjoyed conversations with our son about how to “read” any body of water for potential fishing.
Not long ago, we spent the day near a flow control structure where Lake Manitoba flows into the Fairford River and on into the Winnipeg River system. The north side of the river is steep and rocky. The south side slopes more gently, and there are flat, sandy places on which to stand or even set up a chair.
We had great success on the north side … after picking our way down the rocks and boulders. Wanting to save myself the struggle (and uncertainty) of clambering down that slope again, I asked my son if the south side would be an okay spot to go for evening fishing.
He responded that, while the south side isn’t a bad place to fish, the north side would offer a great chance of success due to the “backflow” which occurs closer to that bank. As the water from Lake Manitoba flows through the control structure into the Fairford River, it swirls and eddies and literally “flows back” toward the control structure in spots. Those swirls and back currents are constantly shifting, which increases the oxygen content of the water, and brings additional nutrients up from the river bottom. Eventually, the seemingly chaotic flow evens out and a smoother current emerges as the river continues on its way to the next lake.
I felt a resonance between what I saw in the river and my own experience in personal growth. Transformative experiences always seem to be followed by periods of wondering if I dreamed my own growth, and feeling “old stuff” coming back into my awareness with much more intensity than I would prefer. It always feels like “backward progress”.
But what if it’s actually “backflow”? Yes, it’s stirring up “stuff”—the very stuff that provides nourishment. It feels unsettling, uncertain, destabilizing, disorienting. And yet, if I can surrender to its wisdom, it will enliven me, nourish me, and carry me eventually into a new way of being, a steadier flow.
The words are easy to type, not so easy to experience.
It is hard to stay present to the chaos and uncertainty. I have to intentionally take time away from “doing” and “accomplishing” to just let myself feel the mess of it all. As I practice kindness toward my tender self, acknowledge that it’s hard, and find ways to give myself care, I begin to experience the harvest of nutrients being stirred up by the “backflow” of my personal growth. Rest is my way of surrendering to the backflow, and in rest, I find myself carried out into the calmer waters.
Maybe I need to go fishing again.
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