A River Runs Through It

Dear Friends,

This week, I was reminded of a beautiful line from Teilhard de Chardin:

About a decade ago, I was introduced to the idea of experiential knowing—the understanding that words and concepts can only take us so far. At some point, we must taste (chew and digest), and then—only then—can we truly see.

Think about it: most of our religious and philosophical disagreements aren’t really about the mystery itself, but rather about our perceived ownership of it. We cling to the idea that our side holds the truth, while the other must be lost or blind. But if you've ever left the safe village of certainty and wandered into the wilderness that is real life, you know this: rarely does one side hold it all.

This is why proximity to ideas and people outside of our bubble is often a hallmark of those rare individuals who help move the world forward. Visionaries. Healers. Bridge-builders. They don’t just think differently—they see differently, because they’ve lived differently.

Unfortunately, the ego prefers safety. It craves affirmation. It resists disruption. And more than anything, it seeks separation.

Once upon a time, a man showed up and invited us to love our enemies. Not debate them. Not defeat them. Love them. You can read that idea a thousand times, quote it, teach it—but until you actually do it, you’ll never taste the mystery hidden inside.

Experience > knowledge.

When I was young, I loved the movie A River Runs Through It. I had my parents buy me clothes from Harold’s—shirts with trout, rivers, and scenic mountain scenes. I hung a fishing vest and net on my bedroom wall. I even got a fly rod and spent hours in our front yard casting into nothing but air and St. Augustine grass.

Then, one day, my dad took me to the Pecos River outside of Santa Fe.

I stepped into the water. And everything changed.

I felt it.

And I knew it was true.

What was true?

That a river runs through it.

And somehow, I knew—I am it.

And so are you if you will step in.

Taste.

And see.

Haunted by waters,

Ashton