My old homeland of Arizona may have one particularly famous and healthy entrenched reach of the Colorado, but my current territory has the Big Horn. Near the Montana-Wyoming border, the Big Horn River etches its way between the Pryor and Bighorn Mountain Ranges, deep and narrow. Gorge-ous:

The Big Horn and the Colorado both remind us that a river, like a person, can entrench itself in a mighty way to fit some specific circumstance (like cutting through obstacles, mending itself, or writing a book) AND THEN hook up with its surroundings again later, when the setting’s right. About fifty miles downstream of its canyon, the Big Horn has full connection to a broad floodplain filled with all kinds of kindred souls:

So don’t be afraid to self-isolate when you want to accomplish a monumental task or rest (perhaps the most worthy and monumental doing non-doing of all). Rivers don’t flow in one manner along the course of their journey and neither do you. It’s always and eternally… for now.