Don’t Push the River: A Father’s Awakening to Nature’s Reality

Embracing Life’s Ebb and Flow

               A Father’s Journey Back to Himself

My father, then in his seventies, was sitting a short way off from me on the sandy, gravel-like beach that bounded a wide, rapid-flowing river that ran from the mountains through the bottom of the national park where we were staying. The impressive, mighty flowing river absorbed all your thoughts into its splendid displays of power, freedom, nature’s natural beauty, and almighty presence. The morning light emanating from the sky, awakening the senses to the river’s enormity and nature’s presence, seemed to softly filter through curtains of mental fog and preoccupations, like a whisper. He appeared for the first time in weeks to release his tension and despair, the sense of loss, and hopelessness. Now he radiated the spirit of someone who had found his soul and regained his footing and sense of purpose.

Dad seemed to be returning to his former self for the first time in weeks, after months or perhaps years of struggles, loss, illness, and eventual despair. His health had been weakened by life’s hardships, including the tragic deaths of two brothers at different times while they were facing heavy burdens and health issues. Adding to my father’s difficulties was the loss of his long-standing business because of a fire during city riots, followed by two heart attacks and other health problems, ultimately leading to a sense of despair and sinking into the doldrums.

The healing power of a change in scenery

My father’s visit to Los Angeles, California, and his stay with me were prompted by my mother’s urgent request, as she believed a change of scenery could be healing. My mom, like my dad, had to drop out of school early for many common reasons young people of her era experienced—when families, especially large ones, had to leave school early to work. She became the heart and glue of the family during tough times. Her heart and soul were deeply connected to nature. I remember, as a young child, her always caring lovingly for the family, our home, and the wooded yard in the rural setting where we grew up. She would always return to the house with a radiant glow after raking leaves or other outdoor chores, as if communing with the spiritual and the entire panorama of our existence. As I grew older, I thought of her as a nature mystic, as a friend and colleague described it, with a profound knowing and a greater sense of things. It was as if she had a more profound understanding when she called to have Dad make the trip to bring him back to life and health.

During his hoped-for life and health-saving trip, I was finishing a master’s in public health at UCLA in Los Angeles. When he arrived with his irritable demeanor, weakened health, and sad appearance, my first thought was to take him to the beach, the mountains, or maybe into nature.

Embracing life’s ebb and flow—Nature’s renewal

My father, my favorite cousin Ricky, and I decided on a trip to a park just north of Los Angeles, the Angeles National Forest—as I remember, a wild, untamed place filled with tree-covered mountains, rocky canyons, and rivers that meander through the landscape. “It’s many thousands of acres served as our green retreat from the troubles of daily life and a place for healing.” The San Gabriel River cuts through the forest, with its clear, winding waters tumbling over rocks, offering a peaceful, steady sound of nature.

Some trails range from peaceful walks along the riverbanks to climbs up mountain trails, with wildflowers adding color across the hillsides and birds singing. The flowing river through the park seems to help you relax, release worries, and quiet your busy mind. It turned out to be the perfect destination, a place where you can breathe, clear your head, and find your footing—lost when overwhelmed by life’s struggles—essential for navigating the rocky paths through the park.

Visiting the national park was like a miracle, beyond any of my expectations. After a week of camping out, walking up mountain trails, and even a donkey ride, I could finally take in the majesty and grandeur of the exquisite moment—all in—just being there in the heart of nature by the picturesque river that flows down the mountain to its unknown destination, perhaps into our souls.

“Ebb and flow” reflect the natural rhythms and cycles of life—times of decline and periods of growth or progress. Similar to the tides of a river or ocean, life experiences moments of struggle, loss, and retreat, followed by times of renewal, advancement, and hope. My father’s journey was about accepting life’s ebb and flow, embracing both hardships and joys as part of an ongoing process, allowing nature and time to heal and restore the spirit. It involves understanding that tough times will eventually give way to better days, and both are essential for personal growth and resilience. Recognizing natural patterns in events and receiving immediate feedback provides the information needed to adjust our course, planning, and thinking.

“Don’t Push the River”: Embracing the flow and wisdom

It reminded me of the 1970s classic, Don’t Push the River: It Flows by Itself, by Barry Stevens.¹ The book has long since vanished from my bookshelf, but I found it—now out of print—available in a new edition that includes all the original calligraphic illustrations, plus new photographs of the Gestalt community she formed on a ranch. The book recounts Stevens’s exploration and her connections with Fritz Perls, her experiences with Gestalt Therapy, Zen Buddhism, J. Krishnamurti’s philosophy, and Native American spiritual practices, all aimed at growth, deepening, and expanding wisdom and skills for navigating life’s challenges.

Insights from the wise sages and spiritual sensibility

My experience also reminds me of the famous quote from Pirkei Avot: “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”² The saying is thought to encourage perseverance and responsibility, reminding us that while we may not complete every vital task in life, we are still obligated to do our part and continue striving: ‘You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.’

The collection of ethical wisdom sayings from Rabbinic sages, also known as the “Ethics of the Fathers,” is traditionally studied to inspire personal character development and communal values. To me, the teaching is like the expression “Don’t push the river.” Both highlight the idea that although we often feel compelled to complete a project or task we’re involved in, or to succeed for personal gain or achievement, or because we believe it’s essential to our well-being or even survival, the best approach is to live our lives doing the best we can with what we know or have experienced. It’s also important to stay flexible and open to new information that comes to us in the present moment, allowing us to adjust or refine our efforts to meet best the needs of the present and the expected future.

Gaining wisdom is a hopeful path for our children and all people, ensuring the survival of our communities and society. Wisdom is taught and learned from many sources, passed down from wise fathers and mothers, educators, and teachers from secular, religious, or mystical backgrounds, or enlightened sages. The Pirkei Avot might be better rephrased in a modern context as the wisdom of fathers and mothers, women in their lives, and profound teachers of wisdom and ethics. Clearly, the Rabbinic sages were influenced by many influential teachers in their lives, including women and mothers, and perhaps by profound enlightening experiences during their journeys through life.

Dream of a River: Acceptance with the flow of life

In a dream after my trip with my father, I attempted to swim in turbulent waters for a while and then sat down on the riverbank. I watched the water glide past, carrying leaves and reflections of the sky. And then, something shifted. I felt a quiet surrender and release of the need to control. The river was moving, always moving, even without my interference. Its pace was perfect, even if I couldn’t see the destination. That moment stayed with me after waking. It was as if the dream whispered, “You don’t have to push. You only need to be adaptable and flexible and stay in the flow.”

I have since had dreams of lovely, flowing rivers, both serene and turbulent, threatening at times. It moved always with determined certainty, flowing toward a destination I could not see. I would stand at its edge, or even be in it to challenge the current, trying to stay afloat or get to my unknown destination, or perhaps to survive. My urgency or necessity was resisted by the water’s flow with a mind and pace of its own, indifferent to my effort. As I woke, I would often think that the river was more than water; it was life itself.

Now, as I sit with my early morning thoughts, I realize the wisdom in that simple dream story. Life is a river. Dreams are gentle messengers, reminding us to trust the flow. We cannot rush growth, love, or healing. We can only show up, be present, be patient, and let our existence and life move with the current. So today, I will choose not to push the river. I’ll choose to listen, learn, and let life unfold, reveal itself, and move at its own pace. Because in the end, the river embodies an essential piece of spiritual wisdom.

Point to Ponder:

• We live in a world that values speed, achievement, and control. Deadlines approach, goals multiply, and the pressure to ·make things happen· hums like a constant background noise. I’ve felt the restless urge to force progress, to bend time to my will. But the river in my dream reminded me of something I often forget: life has its own rhythm. When we push the river, we fight against nature. We tire ourselves trying to speed up what naturally unfolds at its own pace, offering us touches of reality and grounded insights to guide each phase of a creative journey. I think of times when I tried to rush decisions, force relationships, or demand clarity before their proper time. Each attempt left me frustrated, entangled in resistance or emotional negativity. The river, or true nature of reality, does not respond to force; it responds to loving acceptance and patience.
• Considering our human limitations, it is wise and practical to focus on what we can achieve within our capabilities. Often, we overlook much of nature and the larger perspective beyond our limited understanding. The wisdom of our ancestors offers crucial insights into our intentions and direction, often helping us avoid being trapped in a narrow view of the larger, unknown context in which we find ourselves. It emphasizes patience, avoiding quick judgments or conclusions, and living with greater acceptance and surrender to what arises so that we can meet our needs and those of others. We should stay flexible and adaptable to what happens and what new things come to light—what was once unknown but is now revealed through experience, contributing to our knowledge and wisdom, which are essential for making sound decisions.

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Caption for featured collage picture: Nature’s rhythm, flow, renewal—RRP Design with Canva and stock photos

I appreciate your interest. Please share with others. Thanks to Shan Parks, editor and project manager, for his valuable contributions and editing. All content is created and published for educational purposes only. It should not be considered as a substitute for professional medical services or guidance. Always consult a healthcare provider for care related to medical or mental health conditions. This communication does not provide medical diagnoses, recommendations, treatment, or endorsements.

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^1. Don’t Push the River: It Flows by Itself, by Barry Stevens, paperback—January 1, 2005, https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Push-River-Flows-Itself/dp/0939266474?asin=0939266474&revisionId=&format=4&depth=1

^2. The quote referenced comes from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), is found in Pirkei Avot 2:16, and is attributed to Rabbi Tarfon. The saying also relates to another often-quoted wisdom in Pirkei Avot: “If I am only for myself, who am I? (1:14“(2:21).” https://www.myjew