River Experience Reprise

"Spirituality is about seeing. It’s not about earning or achieving. It’s about relationship rather than results or requirements. Once you see, the rest follows. You don’t need to push the river, because you are already in it—and floating along!" from a meditation by Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, (Center for Action and Contemplation, Albuquerque, NM)

Quickly I was pulled into the vortex, and before I knew it, my floating inner tube mounted on heavy gauge plywood had flipped, and I was under it, swallowing water so fast, it took away my breath. I knew I was choking. I was being hammered, held captive, working against myself. A poor, inexperienced swimmer to begin with—although that might not have made a difference—I struggled to keep my head above water.

Then, just as quickly as it all began, I was free of the tube, shooting down the river and still taking in water. I had no doubt that I would die. The thought that raced through my mind—“we wonder how our end will come, and this is my end”. I gave into it. Almost as quickly, the water calmed, although I continued to be carried rapidly on my back. I tried to catch hold of limbs hanging over the bank of the river, but all I accomplished was to strip leaves from the branches. I wasn’t ready to give up. Suddenly, the waters became peaceful, and I was able to paddle my way to the bank. I reached for a limb that held and struggled out of the water. When I tried to stand, my legs simply would have none of it. Somehow, my friends were there, but on both sides of the river. Someone helped me up. There was much laughter as they recounted the experience with the rapids. One of the friends, who was visiting from north Texas, had lost his spectacles, on which he counted for just about everything—like seeing.

I was changed forever that day, even most days I don’t realize this. I don’t remember my experience being any big deal to anyone. All I could think about was how close I had come to death. Later I did tell my parents. My mother was a born worrier, but I don’t remember anything exceptional about her response. I’ve recounted that experience on the Guadalupe a few times over the years. Shortly after it happened, our group of innocents discovered that the river was particularly treacherous that day, according to experts, and we also learned that drownings on the river were not unheard of. Almost 30 years later I told about this experience while participating in Episcopal Cursillo. We had been asked to tell about an experience where we had felt especially close to Christ. My day on the Guadalupe came to mind, but not because I knew that day that Christ was watching over me. What I did know and accept was the reality that I would die, that I might be aware of it as I was dying, and that I could accept it—even peacefully. I knew God that day on the river, and I felt safe.

River Experience Reprise--Albuquerque, NM (February 8, 2012)

R. Harold Hollis