I am a rock large and heavy solid in the stream bed
water pouring around me I see the turmoil I created?
And worry I can't see what is wrong yet I feel
responsible

This photograph calls to me. It seems representative of my life. I am a big heavy rock planted in the middle of the stream. The world surges around me and bubbles up in front of me. I am helpless to stop the chaos, and yet I am the cause of the chaos. Am I where I belong? Is it my job to stir things up? Or do I just enjoy it. If I enjoy it, and at many levels I must admit I do, then I must accept that I am the cause of the turmoil that I dislike also.
I keep thinking of the other stones in the stream that do not disrupt the flow. Those pictures of water slipping tranquilly over pebbles and sand. Why can't I be like those? Serene. Peaceful. Then my ire comes up and I view them with disdain. They have given up, warn down, bested by the water, smothered in sand. But then again, perhaps they are each doing their part. I know that they affect the flow also. Together their effect adds up, they support each other.
How do we know when to be the rock in the stream and when to snuggle down and take as well as lend support? How do we know if we are creating havoc, or protecting something from it?
I have begun to listen to “A Course in Miracles” again. The recent lessons have been on recognizing that what we see around us is our creation. We have created what we fear/wish to destroy. It is not really there. Yet I know that if I turn and see a child reaching into a fire, I need to intervene, it is not enough to say it is an illusion.