What Must Be

I remember it very clearly: the moment I told my mother I would never get married. I don't know exactly how old I was at the time. Six or seven maybe. And I don't know why I said it. It just kind of popped out. And as I am still single to this day, (I am 42, and the chances of getting married are sliming with each passing day, though I, myself am not) it seems the prophecy I spoke so long ago was just that. A true prophecy.

Where did it come from? This momentary glimpse far into the future. I don't think anyone can say for sure (I know I can't), but it is undeniable (in my mind) that a few things (not all) are set in stone, and if for some reason we are allowed to peek at some of these things, even at the unconscious level, and if we are perceptive enough, (I think children, with their low order of experience, are extremely so) we may grasp that moment of clarity sufficiently to speak it out loud.

Many speak of the self-fulfilling prophecy. That if we hear or speak what we believe to be our destiny, and the idea stays with us, then we work (consciously or not) to fulfill it. Does that make it less supernatural? Even if self-fulfillment is the only (true) explanation for my own experience, it still does not explain where the initial notion came from. That moment of pure revelation. It rang in my mind like a clear bell. And I spoke it. Without a moment's preponderance.

There is only one other moment in my life that compares to that moment of revelation so long ago. In 1991, I was hiking with a group of friends in Colorado along the river in Eleven Mile Canyon, about 60 miles west of Colorado Springs. It was a beautiful summer day-- warm and clear. I was bringing up the rear, as our party (about 8 of us) scrambled upstream over the boulders that hemmed in the roaring whitewater of the Platte (or is it the Tarryall?) River.

I glanced up just in time to see the lead member of our party slip on a rock and fall headlong into the river. He was probably 150 yards ahead and 30 feet above my position, so the water was really moving. At the time, it struck me odd that no one was jumping in to help him out, the others just stood and watched, with mouths agape, as he was swept headfirst and face-up over the first of about three small waterfalls. I wasn't thinking I guess. If they'd jumped in after him, their fates would have undoubtedly been the same. Whoosh! Over the second falls he fell. Then the third. Within only a few seconds (it seemed) he was nearly at my position.

I don't remember thinking: "I'm the last guy here, I'd better jump in and grab him before he's lost." Not at all. To my surprise, I was already in the water, one hand clinging to a log against the raging power of the water, and the other snatching him up by the back of his shirt and practically throwing onto the shore. I stood and looked at him from the water as he tried to catch his breath on the rocky shore. His face was a ghostly pale. His eyes gaped like saucers. Smashing into and over the rocks had slashed a wide gash across his chin and it had a retarded flow of blood oozing from it, slowed no doubt by the icy mountain waters.

I felt nothing as I looked at him. I did not even feel present. Who'd plucked him from the water? Why was I wet? I'd made no decision to jump in, of that I was sure. Yet all the evidence pointed to the fact that it was indeed me who'd done this thing. The others soon crowded around him trying to help, but for some reason, I had not the sense to get out of the water myself. Who or what had put me there? It was an altogether confounding experience.

What is it that motivates a man and moves his body into doing something he knows instinctively puts his own life in danger? I wish I knew. But I know one thing. It was the same thing that told me I would never marry. The washing away of self, the surrender of the will, the immersion in a moment so complete so as to strip away any doubt about fact or action. Is it instinct? Is it God? The collective unconscious? Karma? I have inklings...

I think there are things that were meant to be. Whether we decide to do them or not. And I feel there is something else coming soon. I can't say what it is just yet. But the feeling is building. Soon it will wash over me again like it did twice before. Whether it will be another prophecy, or another action that concerns me directly I can't say for sure. Not yet. But this time it feels different--bigger. More external. Like the water rushing out of the bay before the tsunami strikes. I wish I could say more about it.

I will, when I know, but then it may be too late.

Que sera, sera.