In a time of great fires, water is for putting them out, and for playing with your friends, in memory of times when the sky was clear.

Pretty important things, eh. But it’s a trick. Water is not “for” anything. Even the damselflies below aren’t “for-ing” water. It’s not even a verb!

Such a balance of colour and light is not water, either, and the beauty of the image is not an argument indicating what water is for. It’s not for beauty, in other words, because for-ness is just a trick. Heck, look at it, it’s not even a noun. It’s a preposition, just like the dictionary says:

See that? It’s an expression of intent, leading towards a goal; it is what is in front of one, which one moves towards. And that’s the problem. Water is not “in front”. Look:

Heck, that’s not even water. It’s an image of water (and damselflies, and pond weeds). Water is not an image. When one lives with it, it is not in front of one, not before your self. That’s because it is you, and would you really want to accept that you are “for” something. That’s not how human will works, nor is it how the planet works.

I mean, you can say, hey, the lake is for kayaking, let’s say, or for photographing, or for enjoying beauty, but that’s simply not true. That’s an expression of human will. It’s important stuff, but oh-so-transient. Asking what water is for is no more sensible than asking what is the purpose of life. You’ll go nuts letting human will drag you along like that. Besides, in the dry grass, the mariposa lily is water. It doesn’t “use” water or “store” it to survive. It is water, hence I survives.

Water in a specific situation, with specifically-timed flowers to coordinate with rains, and a bulb that stores life energy through the rest of the year, yes, but that’s not “use”. It’s not “for.” May we all grow in our ability to honour life.