The Shape of Water

On saturation

Right now I can hear the seasonal ravine streams that are on each side of the house raging. They’ve been over full and gushing a few days now as we approach summer solstice after a spring of empty silence. A winter with nearly no snow made for the driest spring I’ve ever experienced in our 15 years in the St. Croix river valley—I don’t remember a single spring during those 15 years when the spring streams didn’t run for at least a day or two. But this year they were eerily still, and the lake has been lower than ever, way down from it’s usual slightly overfull spring state.

Until about a month ago when it started raining. And raining. And raining. This week we’re in the midst of a flood watch as the lake fills up and spills the banks that are usually fairly reliable this time of year. We’ve had to pump out the crawl space under the front step in the middle of the night more than is ideal¹, and a few times it’s even spilled into the living area in the basement—2 inches of rain in a few hours every few days, already saturated soil, and gutters that clog almost immediately (hello, forest living) is a bad combination in what feels like Minnesota’s version of monsoon season.

It’s been a rough stretch after an already rough stretch—it’s month five of unemployment², our 17 year old cat died last week, and a string of family illnesses has made me think,

“Sweet, Universe. Thanks for all the lessons in resilience. Noted and learned. Respite?”

This is when I imagine the Universe cackling in the background…”silly humans, thinking there’s any rhyme or reason to what happens.”

Of course, no one is ever “due” anything, as life offers up what life offers up (or throws down, as it were), and there are many in this world who are dealing with far more dire issues than a wet basement and job insecurity.³

However, excessive hard things are still hard things, no matter your life circumstance.

So what do we do with the excess? Whether it’s floods or illness that strikes at exactly the wrong time⁴ or persistent uncertainty, too much (especially of the challenging) is overwhelming.⁵ It’s tricky to know what to do with it all when it’s too much to hold.

This is when I started to type “set it down” and then I cackled to myself, thinking…”silly human, thinking it’s that simple. Set it down. Right. On it. 🙄.”

The water flowing around the house (and hopefully not too much more INTO the house) will run where it will, seeking whatever water seeks when it’s in the company of lots of itself.

Here’s a poem I wrote a few days after being laid off, five months ago now:

What is the shape of water
when it is poured without consent
let to infiltrate where no one is prepared
to catch it as it falls, pooling and spreading
in a desperate search for agency? 

That’s one of those unanswerable questions, but I think it’s one to sit with. So often the “too much” overwhelm is rooted in trying to reclaim control after a period of feeling powerless. Things like healing and job search insecurity and inclement weather are not things we can directly control.⁶ We can’t just “set them down” never to be interacted with again, but perhaps we can set down our attachment to a certain outcome or resolution.

Easier said than done. Obvi.

What’s the shape of water? Poured with consent or not, this substance that is both essential for life and capable of destruction has power. I suppose that fact could be a simple invitation pay attention to where our own energy —our power— goes.

From Collisions of Earth and Sky:

Ask yourself this: ‘What has my life belonged to? Jot down your answers. Be honest. Some of the things that have gotten pieces of your life won’t make you feel good. That’s okay. Some of them you’ll need to take responsibility for at some point. Some of them are not your fault. Just note them.

The next question is: what do I want to give my life to? Write down your answers again. Be honest. There is no right or wrong: there are just the things that are calling you into doing something different. Remember to treat yourself with kindness and respect. Self-love might feel too hard when you start, and that’s okay. Every time you offer yourself a simple gesture of respect, you’re a bit closer to being able to go there.

Maybe the shape of water is whatever calls you toward following the path to saturation, but saturation of love and respect for yourself and all forms of life that cross your path, be they swept into your sphere by a great flood or emerge from the aftermath of deluge.

There will be times when you can’t see further than a few feet in front of you, but what if those few feet are enough? Knowing more about the path could change how you travel it, sure. But then again, it might not. You can move forward one small step at a time, feeling your way in the dark if you have to. All those small steps get you further than you think. Let love guide the way. Carve out that path with a (lovingly wielded) machete if you must. Douse the flames, the ones that are consuming you in ways that don’t feel good, and lay a new spark in the hearth of your heart. Allow active love to transform your life for good.

What kind of saturation does your life need right now?

1. *it’s actually never ideal to pump water in the middle of the night

2. I REALLY thought I was going to be offered a job a few weeks ago, after three rounds of interviews, a written assignment, and a final panel—alas, a week after the final I got the standard, “Thanks for your time, but we went with another candidate” email. Gah. Applying for jobs, waiting to hear about said applications, interviewing, waiting to hear after each interview…it’s exhausting. Especially after five months of “Thank you, we were really impressed by your qualifications (IMO, this phrase can be omitted…clearly you were not impressed enough lol) but we’ll pass. Here’s our website in case you want to apply for something else now!”

3. Ceasefire now.

4. Not that there’s ever a ‘good’ time for illness to strike. But some times are worse than others, like when you are underinsured or have a job interview scheduled or a big project that needs doing.

5. I mean, in case you didn’t know this already.

6. You may know this already, too. But it’s really easy to forget. I’ve beaten myself up plenty of times for not being able to fix things I am not actually in direct control of.