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The Mystery of Your Thirst

I need to learn to read the signs around me more carefully.  Things come to me with repetition as if they are tapping on my shoulder.  It isn't as if I read everything I receive, cataloguing with impressive organization.  It's more as if I skip like a stone across the water of the influx of information rushing at me, finding inspiration in repetition as if the singular would not be loud enough.  Often it isn't.  Even in repetition, I'm still unsure how to interpret the hieroglyphs.

I stumbled on the above today, only hours after reading The Mystery of Your Thirst by Rob Brezsny. I'm trying to figure out if I can see the river or if I know about water.