РефератыИностранный языкA A Separation Of Life Essay Research Paper

A Separation Of Life Essay Research Paper

A Separation Of Life Essay, Research Paper


Water, the median of life. Growing up


in a small town nestled tightly in the arms of the wasatch


front, I learned early the importance of nature. There was a


fine line drawn between religion and the outdoors, and the


quest of my life was to determine an appropriate balance.


Water, signifying the line between the spiritual and physical,


played an important role in my secular teachings. Cutting


through the center of town it was the very phenomenon that


I had grown to love, the river. Soul restored and


imagination stirred, the words of the river echoed the marks


of God. Although by nature I stood alone, untutored and


untouched, the waters of life left me free to understand the


natural side of God?s order. With its flowing properties and


unbridled passion to move forward, the water was my


spirit. An old weathered palm tree emerged from the


seemingly impenetrable sandy beach. I leaned back against


its rough surface as the waves of the emerald blue ocean


slowly crawled to my feet. They lapped relentlessly against


the shore as if trying to take me back with them. The wind


blew gently over the top of the distant incoming waves as


they mirrored back the competing rays of sun. With each


reflection, I narrowly squinted my eyes and continued to


marvel at this picturesque interaction of color and beauty. I


raised my hand to my brow, wiping off the beads of sweat


that saturated my face. As my fingers moved across my


sensitive skin, I could tell the sun had left its mark. I felt


their was no escaping the blanket of rays only the clouds


above seemed to be able to control. The pain was


uncomfortable, but disappeared quickly as I scooped up


the cool water and splashed it on my face. I knew that I


could not drink the seemingly infinite volume of water which


surrounded me, so I headed for a nearby stream. Kneeling


down, I penetrated the stream with cupped hands and


raised the fresh water to my dry lips. I was unable to


control the water as it sifted through my fingers and ran


down my arms, as if trying to escape back to the stream. I


licked my salty lips and drank. I had never before tasted a


more refreshing drink of water. This euphoric experience


was one that I savored, as I reached for a second handful.


There have been few experiences throughout my life that I


remember more vividly than of that day on the beach. I


often think about where the water would flow, and who


would be the recipient of its aqueous forgiveness. This


simple stream had been the solution to my unquenchable


need for sustenance. My connection, as if umbilical, was


met when I broke the skin of mother natures body to


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partake of her life giving substance. But, something


separated me from that world which existed internally


beneath the stream. This was the first spiritual encounter I


remembered having with water. The thoughts of these


experiences connected my inner most soul with the


interaction of beauty and nature. Not a nature that I fully


understood , but an understanding of the line that connects


the perfection of life to a spiritual world. Eventually all


things merged into one, and I would understand both


physical and spiritual, but until then I would be left


untutored. All existence seems to fade into a being.


Memories past and present, would leave with them


impressions of the future. These memories always brought


me back to the river which cut through my town, and the


water which had brought me closer to the line of spirituality.


The blanket of life stretched across the valley as the wind


blew calmly over the tops of the trees. I fastened my khaki


green bag to my shoulder as I slowly released the tension


of my line sending the small hook end over end into the


water. The occasional silver flash of light broke through the


undercurrent of water as I pulled my hook over the rocks


and twigs that extended through the river body. Fishing was


something that I enjoyed more than anything. I had spent


much of my growing up years slipping on the rocks that


lined the bottom of this river bed like mosaic tiles. Although


it had been quite some time since I had visited ?the river?,


the smooth sound of the water as it meandered by


welcomed me back. As the sun beat down, racing its way


through the trees, I was reminded of the experiences I had


with the stream before. Taking the fresh cool water and


dripping it down my neck, I realized what draws me to


these majestic places. To understand this barrier of life, a


barrier that separated me from this underworld of water. I


stood on the outside trying to pull some piece of intricate


life from this world I knew nothing about. Motivated to


understand this spiritual nature, the worlds converged into


one, a world of life. The simple existence of the stream


brought the very compulsive questions that caused me to


wonder. Just as I didn?t understand its exact purpose


thousands of miles away, or even one hundred yards up


stream, I knew its effect on me here and now would leave


its impression. Running over rocks, squeezing though


cracks, and providing the essential elements of life were the


unwavering properties of the water. Although interacting


with its surroundings for just a moment, the river would


leave its mark, carrying on its way of life, never knowing


where it would end, or if it ever ended.

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