I went on a river float trip this summer, and somewhere between trying not to lose my sunglasses and making sure I stayed attached to my friend’s tube, I started thinking about life.

Because here’s the thing about a river: it keeps moving.

No matter what you’re doing.

You can be floating peacefully along, drink in hand, enjoying the scenery. You can be tied to six other people. You can be paddling like your life depends on it.

The river is still moving.

And every once in a while, something interesting would happen. I would get caught in a current that made me stay in one place—or somehow, miraculously, start floating upstream.

It seemed impossible.

The river was very clearly moving forward. People were floating past me, headed downstream, and there I was…going backwards.

And honestly? Haven’t we all been there?

There are seasons when it feels like everyone else is moving forward while we’re stuck. Everyone is getting married, getting promoted, buying the house, starting the business, figuring it out…and somehow we’re floating upstream in an inner tube wondering how the heck we got here.

Then there are other times when you’re the one floating along while everyone around you seems to be stuck.

Same river. Different current.

I also loved watching how differently people chose to float. There were huge groups all tied together. Two-person rafts with a cooler in the middle. Boats carrying six or eight people, with only two of them apparently doing all the work. And then there were the solo tubers, happily floating along in their own little world.

Me? I wanted to see everyone in our group. I also wanted to be tied to my friend’s tube.

He preferred to float alone.

But, begrudgingly, he allowed me to attach my tube to his.

And maybe that’s life, too.

Some people want to move through life surrounded by others. Some are happiest with one person beside them. Some will happily let you tie your tube to theirs, even if they’d probably prefer a little more personal space.

And some people are meant to float alone.

The trick, I think, is learning whose tube is worth attaching yourself to.

Not everyone is headed in the same direction. Not everyone wants to be connected. And sometimes, no matter how much you like someone, tying yourself to their tube means you’re both just going to get tangled up.

We also have to learn not to panic when we find ourselves standing still—or even floating backward.

The river is still moving.

Life is still moving.

Sometimes we’re just caught in a current we can’t quite see yet.

Maybe the goal isn’t to always keep up with everyone floating past us. Maybe it’s to know when to hold on, when to let go, when to paddle a little harder, and when to simply lean back and let life carry us for a while.

And perhaps the real wisdom is knowing that sometimes life is better with your tubes tied together…

and sometimes, you just need to float your own damn river.

XX,

MG