The Waves and Mountains of Life

The ever-changing and the unchanging

Rob with three of our children years ago on a "mountain" on the Nullaki Peninsula near Evergreen.

When people visit our little property on the south coast of Western Australia, we inevitably take them to two places: the ocean and the mountains. In other words, the Southern Ocean and the Stirling Ranges.

What fascinates people about oceans and mountains?

To me, they represent opposites: the ever-changing and the unchanging.

Whenever we park the car and find a vantage point to view the ocean, I’m awed by its ever-changing quality. The constant ebb and flow. It is never still. The water is always licking the shore, nibbling a cliff, changing the arrangement of grains of sand or throwing up salt spray. Even on windless days its surface quivers in the sunshine.

Then when we drive through the mountains, I’m struck yet again by their unchanging aspect. Their peaks point where they always have, and their bases sit where they’ve always sat. Of course, mountains are changing incrementally all the time, but the changes are beyond our perception. Unless there is an earthquake, a volcanic eruption, or something large like a meteor hits it, a mountain maintains its shape and height in our lifetime. It is a constant. Dependable. Immovable.

When our visitors back down the driveway and head off home I find myself still thinking about oceans and mountains, and how they represent different aspects of my life.

Some things change all the time, and some things are unchanging.

The Ever-Changing

My body is changing.

Eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be, so although I once had 20/20 vision, now I may mistake a distant bush moving in the breeze for a bird. The delicate crow’s feet around my eyes have morphed into dry, gouged riverbeds. And when held at a certain angle to the light, the backs of my hands, instead of being smooth, look like the puckered surface of an aged rice pudding.

My relationships are changing.

Little people that I used to tell to blow their noses and make their beds are now taller than me and enthrall me with their life wisdom. Politicians no longer intimidate me with their importance, and I’ve ceased having an argumentative relationship with the weather – it is what it is.

My daily rituals aren’t what they once were.

I used to drive to work. Now I stay home to work. I used to drink black tea. Now I sip herbal tea and coffee. I used to read books in the semi-dark whereas now I turn on every light switch I can find. I used to watch the sun rise, now I’m drawn to observe the setting sun.

The Unchanging

Ahh, the unchanging.

What is that “thing”, that mountain, inside me that never changes?

This aspect of myself is hard to describe. It’s easier to list some of the ways it reveals itself.

It bypasses my brain and looks through my eyes at a world without labels.

It tugs at my heart, subtly forging a connection with everyone I meet.

It tastes every birthday cake I eat.

It feels like home.

There are many names for this unchanging aspect of myself: the soul, the spirit, eternal essence, universal consciousness, God-in-us.

Whatever its name, I picture it as an unchanging mountain within.

Waves and Mountains of Life

The changing and the unchanging will always be in our life.

Our purpose is to combine the two.

To hold the ever-changing ocean within the unchanging mountain.

If you ever feel overwhelmed by the changes in your life, switch your focus to the unchanging part of yourself.

Hold the ever-changing within the unchanging and you will find a way through.

With love, Marlane