Life’s River Currents
Written by Julie Goldstein
As summer transitions to fall, I continue to cherish the extensive time I spent on the river over these past few months. All told, I traveled about 320 river miles in Arizona (The Grand Canyon!), Utah and Colorado in 25 days. A few of these days included precious time on my “home river” in the Roaring Fork Valley in Western Colorado. For most of my life, the Roaring Fork River has been one of my dearest neighborhood friends with whom I swim and recreate on hot summer afternoons.
Some of my days on the river were soulfully calming. I felt held by a mighty power that often communicated directly to my nervous system that I was going to make it through whatever big life circumstance might come my way next. Other days were filled with adrenaline and excitement as we navigated whitewater rapids and tricky water features that were like a big whitewater amusement park ride. Each day was a unique blend of expected and unexpected challenges with pure awe and gratitude mixed in. For hours each day, I found myself staring at river beds, rock formations, and vegetation in spectacular canyons and valleys across the western United States. Gazing at these rock and water formations brought a much needed soul soothing experience deep into my personal landscape.
While the ‘life is a river’ metaphor is a commonplace cliché, the luxury of my summer river adventures leave me contemplating my own meandering flow of life. With the launch of the SWAHA website, I am primarily reflecting on my philanthropic journey. Inheriting a philanthropic-oriented life from my parents (even if I often times really wanted nothing to do with it) and serving as the director of a foundation upon the untimely death of my father and creating a new foundation after that, has felt akin to running a river.
There have been calm, flat water stretches when it felt easeful and satisfying to work hard and mindfully to share financial resources with marginalized populations and precious places. And, conversely, there have been turbid parts of the river that were complicated to navigate – times when there were holes, backflows, and huge obstacles to circumvent. Sometimes there are clean runs and other times, not so much. Regardless, the river carries on. And so must the work of our collective efforts to better our world.
My favorite parts of the river are the smooth stones that lie below its surface. On some of our country’s best known rivers I have found deep solace and healing while losing myself to the configuration of rocks below the crystal clear waters that flow no matter what is happening elsewhere on the planet or who might see them or not. Just their simple beautiful offerings, even after I leave the river behind for the summer, can serve as an anchor for me, a reminder of the solid ground I can find amidst the chaos of our ever-changing world.
