Eddies in the Stream

And Cubic Centimeters of Chance

There’s a place I like to sit and watch the river flow from the mountains, through this town and others, gliding into a bigger river, and then out to the sea. Little eddies form along the edges of the stream behind rocks that have been tweaking the flow of the water for maybe hundreds of years.

I watch brown leaves and bits of foam circle round and round the eddies. They get sucked into the center and you’d think they have disappeared or have been conquered and pulled to the riverbed. But then they pop up and circle some more.

I keep rooting for one of them to escape and carry on with the water downriver, and occasionally one of them does.

Years ago, I was in an important relationship that I ultimately realized was an eddy like those in the river. It was beyond fun to circle and circle, joyously dancing and daring the forces to pull me under. Deep in the center of the vortex, it felt divinely inspired and just…right. Circling the edges had its own allure. Here the risk was not in being pulled under, but in flying away.

It is at the edges that a leaf has a chance to break free from the circling current.

Why do some make it, and others seem to keep circling?

Don Juan (of Carlos Castenada fame) tells us about the idea of a cubic centimeter of chance. This is an opportunity that presents itself to us in a flash. We grab it, or we don’t. There are likely thousands of ccs of chance that flash by us every year. Maybe even every day. Some we never see. Some we see and pass up.

Sometimes we grab onto one. Like a leaf spinning in an eddy, we launch ourselves out of the pattern and take a ride on the greater current. We leave everything behind; those participating in the eddy with us usually stay there.

Why do we get caught in eddies? And is it better not to get engaged like this? Maybe. But I think we enjoy them. They slow down our rush to the sea, They add texture to the journey. They provide a kind of richness to our lives.

They only become problematic if they begin to feel stifling.

What does a cubic centimeter of chance look and feel like? How can we know there is one presenting itself to us? How do we make the leap?

Some ccs of chance are disguised as judgments. When we have overextended our energies, we tend to fall into judging others or judging the world at large. If you find yourself feeling judgmental, look around for a new way of thinking, a cc of chance that could help you pull your power back.

Some ccs of chance come on the heels of an impossible dream. Before you “yeah, but” your dream into the ash pile, look around for an opening, a tiny movement you could make…right now…that is outside of your usual pattern. You may tear a hole in your story that you can leap through.

Some ccs of chance only show up in the depths of desperation. When you have nothing to lose, you may have everything to gain. Look carefully in any direction in which it feels easier to breathe. Maybe that random dandelion that catches your eye has a message for you.

For me, I missed many ccs of chance that could have launched me in a new direction from that relationship. I had to get to feeling like I was dying before I looked around. And then, the moment came. In the middle of the night. I took an action and started a course of events that could not be reversed and which freed us both.

The months that followed were not pleasant. Leaping into a new world is often uncomfortable. The beauty of grabbing onto a cc of chance is that there is no possibility of vacillating or reversing course. The river grabs you and takes you inevitably away from your cheery eddy. I had to learn to swim in a new current. I was so busy trying to keep my head above water, I could not see that this new world was what I most wanted. Until I could.

Our world is changing and shifting beneath our feet. Do we want to keep spinning around the same cyclic eddy? Or do we want to open up to a cc of chance that will take us in an unknown direction?

I think there is space for either choice. Like I said, many ccs of chance might pass us by before we’re ready to grab onto one. And some of us serve best by holding steady, dancing between the center and the edge of our lives.

Wherever you are in your process, I wish you happy sailing. If you have the chance, go sit by a stream or a river and contemplate the currents. You’ll feel them stirring the energy deep in your being. And maybe, you’ll also see an opening.