Water Under the Bridge

My 15 year old self once stumbled upon a poem with the title "Water Under the Bridge." For some reason my current self can't seem to find it. She's curious to revisit its words, but the search has come up empty. Perhaps she's looking in the wrong place. Perhaps it only exists in the parallel plane of the past. But its meaning and its value have remained intact and I suppose that is what is much more important.

A river or any body of water can separate two sides of reality. It can make it more difficult for humans to switch places, make progress, explore, discover, bridge gaps, and become "something else." The water is impartial because it is omniscient. It reflects and cherishes both worlds. But we humans build these things we call bridges, in order to make it "easier" and more "convenient" to get whatever we want, to open up possibility, to go back and forth between one world and the next as if we could be as carefree as a butterfly and not experience any consequences for our actions. We try to outsmart the water, thinking that if we cover up a portion of its reflection that it will allow us to be blind.

Water cleanses. Water heals. Water knows that you have to let go in order to keep moving. Water sees where you've been, hears every thought and hope, feels everything you've felt, and is well aware of why you chose to cross those safe and trustworthy bridges in the first place. In order to do that you had to turn your back on something. You had to let something go. You had to make a choice. Whatever happened, happened. It is gone. It is "water under the bridge." Making choices for the present based on who you were, where you've been, and whatever occurred in the past is silly and detrimental to your current Self. You are no longer that person. You no longer live there. There is no reason to keep punishing yourself once you realize that the water is the true bridge. And what could have been, what might have been if you had chosen a different one needs to let go, too.