I'm living, again, in a river town. I haven't only lived in river towns but almost. And where there haven't been rivers, there's been water and always locks nearby.
You might be thinking, so what? And you might have a valid point.
But it doesn't feel like that. They are something to me. Not like friends I chose, but like family members that came with the territory. I currently live two blocks from locks, I walk or drive by them everyday. And when I'm paying attention to where I am and not where I'm going, they tell me things.
Things about that effort made to bring two elements together in a way that facilitates, allows even, the flow - the passage - being able to wholly and with integrity (and by that I mean not splitting apart or tipping over) move from one of those elements to the other, finding safety in the mix.
Again, so what?
Well, from where I'm standing, it looks like the physics of Temperance. Not temperance as in self-restraint. But Temperance as in the blending or synthesis of opposites. High mixed with low. Hard mixed with soft.
And I, as un-temperant as I am, have managed to live my whole life next to them. I was born to a father who built them, have always lived in places where I could see them, and now, am a neighbor to them.
Does this mean I'm getting closer to Temperance or just that I'm destined to live in water towns?