The River of Life

We often drift through our days under a persistent spell, a quiet illusion that tells us we are solid, fixed, and separate. We imagine ourselves as passengers on a great boat, safely contained within a hull, travelling down the river of life. In this dream, the river is something that happens to us—an external environment we observe from the deck, distinct from our own static identity.

But the boat is a phantom. The deeper reality, the one that aligns with the very pulse of the universe, is far more fluid: you are not on the river; you are of the river. You are a specific, rhythmic movement of the water itself. To move from the “passenger” to the “flow” is to wake up from the static dream into the vibrant, ever-changing reality of your own existence.

The Sacred Geometry of the Whirlpool

To grasp this shift, look toward the surface of a moving stream and find a whirlpool. It appears to be a “thing,” a distinct entity with a clear shape and location. Yet, if you look closer, the whirlpool has no independent substance. It is a pattern of movement formed by the river. It arises from the flow, is sustained by the constant rush of the water, and eventually returns to the depths from which it emerged.

The substance of the whirlpool is identical to the substance of the river. There is no boundary where the “individual” ends and the “source” begins; there is only water in various states of expression. This is the true nature of your life. You are a temporary gathering of the infinite, sustained by the very thing you think you are merely observing.

“…[like] the boat the river never stops flowing; else it wouldn’t be a river… this whirlpool arises out of the flow of the river water; the water of the whirlpool is the water of the river; the whirlpool exists for a time after which it returns to the river out of which it came and was sustained/supported.”

The Grammar of Existence: Embracing the Verb

The source of much of our suffering lies in a simple linguistic and metaphysical error: We treat Verbs as Nouns. We use our names as labels for a finished product, a “noun” that must be protected, preserved, and kept from changing. The ego clings to the “noun” because it fears the impermanence of the flow.

In truth, you are a “verb.” You are a continuous process of “birthing,” “breathing,” and “becoming.” Just as a whirlpool is simply a name for the way the river is moving at a certain point, your identity is a label for a specific way the “river of life” is currently flowing. When you embrace yourself as a verb, you find liberation. You no longer have to “hold on” to who you were; you simply allow the current of who you are to move toward its next transformation.

The Debris of Identity: Understanding Your Individuality

If we are all the same water, why do we feel so distinct? The distinction lies in the “debris and twigs” caught within our specific spin. In a river, these physical elements give a whirlpool its unique texture and appearance, allowing it to interact with other whirlpools and the surrounding banks.

In our lives, this debris represents our personalities, our histories, our traumas, and our accolades. It is essential to understand that these things are only visible because of the water’s movement. They are caught in your flow, but they are not the flow itself. This “debris” provides the individual context that allows us to engage with the world, yet it never changes the fundamental purity of the water that carries it. You can appreciate the unique shape of your “twigs” without forgetting that your essence is the river.

The Pulse of the Stream: Breath and Blood as Proof

This shift in perspective is not merely a philosophical exercise; it is anchored in the very marrow of your bones. Your physical existence is the bridge between the metaphor and the manifest. You are a biological stream.

Your life is sustained by “breath flow” and “blood flow.” These are not things you have; they are things you are. If the flow stops, the whirlpool of the individual dissolves. This internal movement is the tangible proof that you are an ongoing event, a river of energy and matter that never stands still for a single second. The internal and external are the same substance, governed by the same laws of motion. You are a rhythmic dance of the cosmos, masquerading as a solid person.

The Yoga of Transformation

This realization is the essence of the “Yoga of Transformation.” Here, yoga is practiced “beyond the mat”—it is the art of seeing the world without the distortion of the “passenger” illusion. It is the nature of an error to cease once it is truly seen and understood.

I invite you to step off the imaginary boat and feel the water. If you moved through your daily life as a continuous “flow” rather than a series of static events happening to a “noun,” how would your fear of change dissolve? How would your capacity for love expand? You are the river, ever-moving, ever-supported, and eternally home.