It’s not hard to imagine one’s life experiences flowing like a stream. People you meet, conversations you have, flashes of insight, emotions - these things and more wash steadily past. The essence of one’s life is dispersed in this river.
You cannot hold onto a river. Grasp at it and you get nothing more than an empty wet hand that will dry soon enough. But, no matter how clear the water appears, it carries with it artifacts of where it has been. Don’t believe me? Put a rock in the stream and wait.
