Fiction Friday: A Far-flung Blog Collection

Rain cannot clean my heart.

Originally posted on alexisdonkin.com blog, a journal entry by Rowan Gray, 3-11-16

It's raining. It's the cold rain of early spring where there's nothing to clean out of the air, and the ground is swollen with water. It's so swollen the water pours up and out, spilling over everything, drowning struggling sprouts and small creatures.

There is no escape from water.

The temple ministers talk about the power of water. They talk about the flexibility of the element. This is an element that fits into any shape, moves into any space with ease, yet has the strength to whittle a mountain to sand. This is an element of life and death – representing the perfect unity of existence. Water is the balance of powers, elements, and forces.

Water is all.

This is what the ministers say.

I understand what they're talking about. I see it when I walk through the forest. I know it through the afternoon summer thunderstorms. But the metaphor fails when we start talking about other elements. Is water the greatest element? The greatest force in the known world?

It overcomes earth and fire. Can it be said that water overcomes air? The air holds water. Is that overcoming it? Or is it embracing it? Are air and water just good friends?

I'm getting philosophical. That's what happens when I'm left to my devices, which happens more often than not. When nearly everyone in your town is afraid of your appearance – how different you are - it's going to happen.

So I spend a lot of time with my thoughts. I volunteer to do forest watch duty and take a heavy rotation. It keeps me out of town, so I'm away from everyone and everyone benefits. I get to sit here under a thick canopy in the woods, studying the rain and waxing philosophical in my journal.

I felt a drip on my scalp. Looks like there's a hole in the leaves right above me. I'm going to move.

I'm still thinking about water. At the university we learned about our bodies being mostly water. We're just containers for this powerful element. It circulates through our bodies, encased in so much tissue, giving us mass and definition, until it is time for its exit. Our exit.

But are we like water? There's no cleansing with people. No matter how much we take soap and water to our bodies, there's no cleansing of the thoughts and heart. That takes a different instrument altogether.

Ugh.

I just want to appreciate the new leaves. I want to listen to the bird calls and the steady dripping of rain through the canopy to the forest floor. I'll do that.

No. I can't. I'm stuck on this water thing. Water. Water. Water.

How do we clean ourselves? It's something only the person involved can do. I can't clean my friend's heart – well, that's not exactly true. I could help them do that work. I just can't instigate it. And the same is true for me. I would have to take care of myself, seeking help from others as needed. I have to be the one to clean out any bad feelings – resentment, regret, shame, guilt, anger, hate, and fear. It has to be me. I'm the one who chooses these things, so I can choose something different.

I'm sure the ministers would say something to that effect.

Ugh. I have some serious internal cleaning to do. I don't want to think about -

Anyway...

Water.

My shift is almost up. I'm going to have to go back to town. Normally I'd send my relief away and take a double shift, but it's a little cold. I could use some hot tea and I wouldn't mind checking the horse stable. There's been some water coming in the last few rains and I'm not sure if anyone has fixed it yet. Seeing as I often ride on official business using the town's horses, I like them to be comfortable and healthy.

Such is my lot.

Or maybe not. If I'm like water, I can change. Things could change because water can always find a way through, around, or over. I could get over my best friend betraying me. I could get over the fact that even with a guaranteed place of honor – a necessary role in town - I continue to be an outsider. I could get through the pressures to find a girl, settle down, and make a few babies – if someone would actually have me.

Or maybe I could just give it all up and take vows. But who would seek me out to lead them spiritually? Wouldn't that be even worse?

I don't know if that would make the most sense, but the other things...

Change takes time. I'm not sure I have that kind of time.

Good! My shift relief is here. I don't want to think about this any more.

Rowan Gray is the main character from my novel WIP, THE CHANGELING TREE.