River. I like this word in English. River is one of my favourite nature baby names for both genders. I would never use it, but it’s very interesting. And I like rivers in general. I like to hear them lapping, I like to dip my feet into a river. We have a river running through our backyard. As you may remember from my earlier posts, because we have the river running through our backyard, and because our street is literally called Acacia Street, we named our house, even if it’s not common in Poland, and its name is Acacia River.
And I like how this word is versatile and can give a lot of space for your imagination.
I can say that my mind is a river – of neverending thoughts, dreams and memories. They can be calm and gentle one minute, I can hear its waters splashing peacefully and playfully, I often let the water carry me wherever it wants, and sometimes would like to never have to come back from wherever it brings me to. Because the river of my mind can bring me to some very nice, interesting places, where I could never be otherwise. I happily drift at its waves, immersing myself in the water, which feels so very smooth and calm, and I am happy to play in it like a child.
The next minute though, it can become very unpredictable. It’s more like a sea than a river then. I can suddenly feel there is more and more water around me, and it’s hard to get out. The splash becomes deafening, I can’t hear anything besides. The waves surround me and it’s harder and harder to fight them, I can fall over anytime. My thoughts are racing, memories overflowing, and I can’t have any control over them. My most beautiful dreams become the most dreadful nightmares which overwhelm me so that I can barely move. Sometimes, everything around gets flooded too. Once in a while, through the mad roar of waves, I can hear someone jauntily sailing by. I want to scream to them, ask them to rescue me and help me out, but I can’t. Even if I could, there’s way too much water all around, and waves are roaring, so they wouldn’t hear me. All I can do is wait. Sometimes, I feel I’m sinking and there is just no way out and will never be. I subside into the mud and the waters are closing above me, not willing to let me out. It feels scary. Even though you’re at the bottom, your darkest thoughts, saddest memories, scariest dreams, your depression and all your anxieties, they can still reach you. And now you can’t fight. So you have to wait…
Eventually, the water will always throw me ashore and let me go, which doesn’t make it less difficult and frightening, but always gives me some small glimmer of hope that it will be better.
And then, after all, things get back to normal for some shorter or longer time, and the river of my mind is peaceful and safe again, with some occasional stronger waves flooding through it, until another storm comes.
What would you compare your mind to?