Sitting at the Fountain

 AS I SAT BY THE FOUNTAIN, my thoughts immediate went to my vision of the elephant fountain. I had been rushing by this fountain every morning, and I’d walked the neighbor’s dog around it, but I’d never sat and just looked at it closely. And perhaps this was no ordinary “looking”—this “looking” was taking place during my “walk with God”.  I’d thought in passing that it was cool that I lived next to a fountain, but why did it take me about four months to come sit next to it? My thoughts shifted and danced, about as rapidly as the water flowed down the fountain, from tier to tier.

 

I’d had been trying desperately to hear God, and when I stilled myself enough, and I calmed my mind: I heard him—though in small simple spurts. Though it was a crazy romp getting my mind to that point. My mind drifted to the yoga class next door. I calmed myself with meditative like thoughts, “just “be”. But then thoughts crept in I couldn’t seem to slow down, with a short forceful space I’d learned to put in between stuff like this:

 

“what’s the point, sure is a beautiful fountain, this is nice, why didn’t I do this sooner, I love the way the water drops and falls, spouting at the top, sure is a nice day, wonder if my girlfriend will walk by with her dog, I love that I see this fountain every morning, how cool, I really should go to that yoga class one of these days, it’s free, sure glad I don’t have anywhere to be, I can just “be”…

 

 (forceful space)

 

“God, I know, please calm my mind. Help me see what you’d like me to see, this is my walk with you. I’m here. (Ok, stop thinking already.)”

 

          … my brain slowed and I started focusing on the water trailing from what appeared to be three soup bowl shapes, increasing in size, until the water reached the large round basin, before being sucked up again and eventually shooting out the top again. The bowls with fluted edges were like tulips that had reached their farthest stretch, just before their petals fall off.

 

Suddenly it hit me, my elephant fountain has 3-tiers. Oh, that’s too easy: the top tier, God the Father; the middle one Jesus; the last tier the Holy Spirit…flowing into the large basin, the people. The Trinity!? Yes, good things come in three’s—isn’t that what “they” say, whoever “they” are. My mind drifted.

 

           My bible study seemed disturbed (yet empathetic) by some of my dreams and visions and told me to pray for clarity. Well, perhaps I should not read so much into this fountain. Back into prayer, I asked God more questions, but not too many (I’d learned to be careful and specific.)

 

I’d been sitting in complete solace, but the longer I sat things starting stirring. Children started riding by on bikes and skateboards—coming close enough for me to say “Hi”—then spinning and challenging one another peddling off to see who-could-top-who in the next move. I finally started writing this story in my mind. I couldn’t seem to stop the detail of the fountain, putting me into a more meditative state.

 

A guy interrupted my fountain description as he walked by—with a nod of approval he pointed towards the fountain.

 

I smiled,“Yes, a nice view.”

 

I moved to the next bench over to get another perspective.

 

Another guy approached with an old black and white speckled dog. They both seemed hesitant. The dog looked at his master and then at me. I caught their eyes and smiled.

 

The owner finally spoke, "Ok, up". The dog hoisted itself onto the narrow ledge and lapped from the fountain.

 

“I bet he looks forward to this every day,” I said.

 

"Yes, but he's tired. He'd jump all the way in if I let him. Let's go," the owner said, giving the leash a gentle tug. The pooch slowly stepped off the ledge. “Have a nice day,” he said, and my smile grew as they walked away.

 

So that’s it I thought—my “walk with God”. That was cool. As I looked up a group of three black birds went shooting over, the middle bird was very large and pulled my eyes to a whisp of a cloud that I could make no shape of. I wondered if this was it or was there more? Should I move to another bench before I go? So I did.

 

Ok God I prayed, “Is there more?”… just then another guy joined the circle, sitting across in sandals, reading a book—we nodded in agreement that we were the “smart” ones in the joint to be sitting in this very spot. I’d never seen anyone hanging around this fountain, had I drawn them here? That was a neat thought.

 

One last prayer, “Is there more,” in silence, trying hard to focus on the water and listen. I heard “It is done”. I nodded bye to the guy at the fountain and walked off.

 

Author's Note

I'm guessing I still need to tighten this...