Skip to main content

Your Choice Be Like Water: You Change, You Flow

We’ve all heard sayings about life being like water — flowing, shifting, refusing to be pinned down. It sounds wise, almost poetic. But here’s the thing: when life actually shifts under us, most of us panic. A job is lost, a relationship ends, plans collapse — suddenly the wisdom of “just flow” feels like an insult. Because how do you flow when rent is due? How do you change when the ground beneath you feels like quicksand?

And yet, flowing is not about pretending everything is easy. It’s about refusing to get stuck.

The Weight of Rigidity

Think about the last time life surprised you. Maybe your employer cut salaries. Maybe a partner left. Maybe your health demanded a new lifestyle. Did you resist? Dig your heels in and fight? Most of us do. We cling to what was, as if holding tighter will bring it back.

But rigidity has a cost. It breaks you. Like a tree fighting a storm until it snaps.

The Choice to Flow

Water doesn’t stop at obstacles. It bends. It carves a new path. And it does so without losing its essence — it remains water.

It’s the same with us. A person can change jobs, homes, relationships, even identities — and still remain who they are. Change doesn’t strip you of self. Refusing to change does.

That’s why flow is a choice. Not a passive surrender, but an active stance: I will not waste my life trying to force what no longer fits. I will bend. I will move. I will continue.

Everyday Flow

Flow isn’t abstract. It shows up in the small, gritty moments:

  • When your landlord raises rent and instead of despairing, you reimagine your living situation.

  • When a relationship ends and instead of drowning in bitterness, you allow yourself to love again — differently, wiser.

  • When your career stalls and you stop seeing it as a dead end, but as a call to pivot, to learn, to stretch.

Flow isn’t about ignoring pain. It’s about trusting that movement — even painful movement — is life.

Stagnation is the Real Enemy

A stagnant pool may look calm, but it breeds decay. Flowing water stays alive. The same is true for us. Stagnation feels safe, but it kills slowly. You stop risking, stop growing, stop living.

So ask yourself: where am I stagnant? Where am I clinging out of fear? Where can I choose to flow?

Because life doesn’t stop demanding movement. The only real choice is whether you fight every turn until you break, or whether you become like water — choosing change, choosing flow.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Not All Disabilities Are Visible

Some pain does not leave a mark. Some exhaustion does not show in the face. Some people are carrying weights that have no name, no diagnosis, and no outward sign. We are used to recognizing suffering only when it can be pointed to — a bandage, a crutch, a cast, a wound. Something we can see. But the human interior is its own world, and often, the heaviest struggles live there. The Quiet Work of Holding Yourself Together There are those who walk into a room smiling, contributing, present — and yet they are holding themselves together one breath at a time. Not because they are pretending, but because they have learned to live with what would overwhelm another person. Some battles are fought inside the mind: The slow grey of depression The relentless hum of anxiety The sudden, unbidden memory that takes the body back to a place it never wants to return The deep fatigue that sleep does not cure And yet, life continues. The world moves. The dishes still need to be wa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...
Post a Comment
Read more