One of the themes Abraham/(Esther Hicks) spoke on with gusto was around “going downstream.” It said that everything we want is downstream & it’s so easy to get there.

This recollection surfaces as the bottom of the river becomes visible. This river will become a bit of marsh, a tiny wetland, a narrow silting space, an idea to live for a season unless we get rain.

In the geo-physical, the engineers turn off the Rio Grande. Now the Rio has its own stories to tell; a river twinned with a vortex of hot springs. This town was built beside the Rio Grande. It blows me up to think we turn off a river. It just never came up at the office in Sarasota, right?

With an entire river traveling in one direction, the energy of T or C diverts. (Feng-shui) The town is quiet. Empty-seeming. The “Police Reports” in the paper are down to two columns only. The vitality & luster seem asleep until some heavy duty revitalization. We exist more in the planning zone, but it’s 104 outside. Lately, it’s all downstream rush here. It takes some good times to offset that energetic, but we’re up for that.

The Science is in. However, the water is not.

The weather patterns were in a different place when these rules were set up & mostly the rules were results of historic patterns. Ancestral paths of least resistance were tapped. But civilization moved everything.

As I perceive the temptation to look back, I realize “We treat the past as though it were more real than the future.”    

I’ll go for the cork analogy: Goog-Monster says, “Cork’s interior structure is porous, making it highly breathable, lightweight, and buoyant.”

That sounds like a description I’d like to wear. I want to be porous, capable of new thinking. (I do a lot of new thinking; thing is I rub it up against old thoughts to get the sparks going. It’s what I have to go on.)

I know I’m buoyant. Have already talked overmuch about weight elsewhere on the blog. Go look, seek, find.

Cork only travels downstream.