Rock. Roll. Flow.

They are all rock and roll . . . as rocky, prominent, sky-defying as the cliffs hanging over the sea.

I am a chill, quiet, soft melody . . . as tranquil and reserved as the whispering stream.

Cliffs and streams—they both have a special place in nature. Both have beauty, strengths, weaknesses, gifts, and faults.

Both were created by God.

So why do I, the stream, feel so out of place?

Somedays I feel like I need to measure up to their level—to become the wild, wave-throwing sea crashing along those rocks, the rolls of my waves joining in with the rocks of the cliff.

But somedays I feel like I can never be that . . . that the cliffs look down their long faces at me. Judging. Condemning. Smirking with a pride that finds its value in being above me.

And then there are other days where I know this is only a metaphor, an image, a lie produced by the wild imagination of my mind. It’s a lie I tell myself because . . . well, I honestly don’t know why.  

Maybe I feel like I need a valid reason for excluding myself from being a cliff. From acting like a cliff or the ocean that always rolls along its side. Because deep down, I know I am the stream. And knowing I am the stream gives me peace, joy, love, and contentment.

Maybe I feel bad for not spending as much time with those cliffs . . . for changing from the sea into the stream because most days, I just don’t feel like being a cliff or an ocean.

Maybe I feel like I’m just growing . . . growing into a stage in which I don’t need to be out on the open sea. Maybe I’m perfectly content with being in the forest.

Even if that means being by myself.

But just because I’ve changed doesn’t mean I don’t see the cliffs any differently.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t think they are a gorgeous part of nature or that they don’t have any value in keeping the ocean company and providing a great outlook to gaze upon the width and depth and beauty of the waters. It doesn’t mean that they don’t accept and love the stream just as much as they do the sea.

There will be some days where I will find myself in a free-spirited, restless mood. And I’ll change back into the ocean, wanting to roll and crash and live wild and care-free.

And on those days, I know the cliffs will be there. Waiting. Welcoming. Warm from the sun’s rays.

And there will be some days where I will find myself in another mood. A different mood. One that has me flow into myself, into the calming green leaves of the forest, resting in the tranquil peace of who I am. That inner self will be there. Waiting. Welcoming. Warm from the sun’s rays.

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