the first time i remember drinking freshwater from a stream out of the palm of my hand, i was maybe 5 or 6 years old, and in Panjshir (meaning five lions), Afghanistan.
travelling to now, in august 2023 on a family trip to Alberta. about a 4 km hike southwest from the beautiful lake louise sits an adorable and cozy tea house, surrounded by a blissful and picturesque, albeit clearly humanly landscaped, area of land and water. a stream of fresh, mineral water runs through the paved stones, the waters journey taking a short plateau at this flat land before continuing into a more vertical journey down below. The mountains stand tall, watching. they are neutral, neutral to everything we were doing below them. those of us passing through this area felt the pull of break time, how could you not?
i leaned back on one of the enlarged log-benches, facing the stream. the mountains, with the mighty glacier at the top, stood infront of me. Eyeing the rocks in the middle of the stream, i looked for a flat one. a normal thing for me to do when by running water is to sit as far in the water as i can. if there are rocks arranged in such a way, i will walk on them to get to the largest one that is most involved in the stream, and find a way to sit comfortably on it. it feels like i am sitting on water.
I saw one that looked big enough for me to sit on with my legs crossed. but i felt strangely wary about putting my levitation practice on display. there were signs everywhere along the rocks saying 'Restoration Area - Stay on the Trail'. there were people around from all over the world, sitting, walking, eating, but all on the benches. a familiar but not all that welcome voice in my head said 'maybe i'll upset something if i don't listen to the rules' and 'i'll spare them my strangeness'.
then my mom went towards the water to soak her feet. We had already met with the water from this stream while hiking up to this area. she had cupped and drank some from her hand, and i cupped and poured it over my head, like a baptism. it was clear, delicious, pure. And freezing. holding any part of your body in it for more than a few seconds took guts. which my mother very much has.
She had her fix for a few minutes as i watched. as she decided to come back, i decided to go forward. i couldn't hold both feet in at the same time for long. the freezing water burned. so i carefully raised some to my face. i tell you, you come out a different person when water that cold and pure makes contact with any part of you, especially your face.
next, i washed my hands. rather quickly. and made my move to the rock i had already identified in the middle of the stream, which was far as i felt i wanted to go. i've gotten quite good and traversing rocks of all sizes like this, especially around water. so i was on it in no time. it was small, but sometimes that works better. i sat and crossed my legs. did another little baptism and said to myself 'thank you mom, this is the best place i have ever got to do this, so far.'
it only took a minute. first, a little girl came from behind, on my right, and jumped over the rocks into the little island of grassy area that lay across the water. once she got there, she took off running. mostly in circles, but she did a bit of exploring before coming back over to her mom and her sister on the tea house side.
then, a group of 4 tall, brown haired adults on my left came and sat on the rocks, facing each other and talking. they followed what my mom had done and kept their feet in the water as they talked in spanish. you got the sense they were grateful to be connecting with the water in that way. one of them was struggling with keeping his feet in there like i did, and it gave us all a laugh.
then, another young woman, who looked my age and east asian, came and sat on the rocks that were just at the edge of the stream. we chatted a bit after, and i learned she was doing a solo road trip and took a break to see banff, before she ended up in vancouver to do a marathon.
a french family; wife, husband, a quiet but adventurous boy of about 6 or 7, and a very young baby on the fathers lap, were going into the water and sitting in different places. the boy was running through the water. Running through it, he was in there up to the shins, and the only thing i heard him say was 'C'est trop frois!', just once.
a mother and young son pairing found their way to the grassy area infront of me on the left, and took their shoes off. The mom was poring over her son, who looked around 5, gazing deeply in the water as she took photos all around him. an adorable display of adoration.
a latino man came and washed his face, and his whole head, several times. there was an energy of love coming from him as he did it.
you could see very clearly the life that the water was delivering to each and every one of us. the scene looked entirely different than when we had arrived. not a soul was near the water when we came to the tea house. as we left, it seemed like every person was touching the water in some way.
i dont know why i was questioning my pure and innate desire in the first place. but more importantly, im grateful to my mother for taking that first step and giving herself permission. it ended up giving us all permission. i stayed on that rock for 40+ minutes, connecting with the living water, the mountains, in meditation, and quietly sharing beautiful moments with all the passersby who stopped, stayed, dipped their bodies and souls into that water.
all we need is permission. who we need permission from is ourselves. nature takes care of the rest.
the only place i drank water from after that, was next to the glacier, where we went next.