And when the swimmer had finally reclaimed those ‘outer’ projections of self; Both river and obstacle now revealed themselves to be but the reflections and shadows of his very own ‘complexes’, only writ large in a language even he could not miss.

And so it came to pass that the river and its contents ceased to have power over him and he became free from needless and involuntary suffering.

But still the buffeting force at his back continued to nag; like the insistent karmic storm that propelled him ever onward through his nightly dreams.

And so he turned around to face himself and even caught a glimpse.

Curiosity assailed the swimmer and the idea of a quest to find the source of the river came about him.

He began to swim against the current and this was also suffering, yet this bore fruit, for it was a sacrifice of his own choosing.

The swimmers route was a going against nature, he became a rejoiner of opposites and a striver to make whole that which had been separated.

Now he was on the ‘path’, and he also knew that he could only go on, for to stop swimming now would be to be swept away into the lakes and caverns of the moon.