Long before I saw Murchison Falls, I heard it. I didn’t yet realize that this journey would become a lesson in saying yes to life—not through certainty, but through trust.
I cautiously made my way down from the gathering spot, then up the steps to the viewing platform, placing each foot carefully on the slippery rocks and clutching the iron railing wet with mist. The roar of rushing water rose through the trees, a rumble that made everything feel alive and moving. And finally, the Nile itself came into view—rushing forward and then compressing itself through a narrow gap before plunging over the edge with astonishing force.
Standing there, I couldn’t stop watching the river. It was utterly committed to its own becoming. Neither pausing nor hesitating, it never seemed to question what waited beyond the edge.
It wasn’t until I returned home that I realized the most personal metaphor wasn’t the waterfall’s abundance. It was a question: “What waits beyond the edge?”
At first, I assumed the edge belonged to the river. But the more I reflected, the more I realized the edge wasn’t the waterfall at all. It was every moment in my own life when my first instinct was to hold back.
I’m rarely impulsive when it comes to the big things – money, relationships, career. I spend a lot of time noticing nuance, asking questions, evaluating options, thinking about systems and strategies…and to be honest, hesitating. Even when experience has shown me that some of my most meaningful transformations have begun with a YES.
There is still a part of me that holds back. And a part that is learning to listen for the YES.
You’ve heard me before…
An Unexpected Invitation
Looking back, I realize this wasn’t the first edge I had stood beside.
Years ago, I was traveling alone through Scotland when I met an older woman named Mrs. Campbell on the train from Glasgow to the ferry bound for the Isle of Arran. We struck up a conversation somewhere between ordinary pleasantries and the kind of unexpected openness that sometimes happens between strangers who know they’ll likely never meet again.
As we pulled into the harbor, she casually offered me a place to stay.
My first instinct was to smile politely and decline. Who accepts an invitation from someone they’ve just met on a train? Even though I hadn’t booked accommodations, saying yes felt like stepping beyond the edge of what seemed sensible.
But as we disembarked on the island and evening settled in, something in me softened. I found Mrs. Campbell, tapped her gently on the shoulder, and asked if her invitation still stood.
Together we walked down a narrow dirt lane to a tiny cottage tucked into the woods. Over the next several days, she became far more than a gracious host. She was a gifted storyteller and an even better listener. By the fire each evening, she asked questions that somehow reached beyond the surface of my life. She arrived, I think, at exactly the moment I needed someone to see possibilities in me that I hadn’t yet recognized for myself.
Years later, as my marriage was quietly unraveling, I walked into an airport restroom. Resting on top of the toilet paper dispenser was a Wayne Dyer book someone had left behind. I picked it up, opened the cover, and stopped cold.
Written inside were the words:
“Mrs. Campbell.”
Of all the books, in all the airports, in one of the hardest seasons of my life, it felt as though she had found me again. I still can’t explain it.
But I have never forgotten what happened when my first “no” became a quiet, tentative “yes.”
I am there whenever you say yes.
An Impossible Timing
In the summer of 2023, I was laid off during a round of corporate downsizing. At almost the same moment, my spiritual community was planning a journey to Egypt with Spirit Tours.
From every practical perspective, the timing was wrong. The trip required payments during what was likely to be a season of unemployment. My sensible side quickly began calculating risks, budgets, and reasons to wait.
But another voice softly asked a different question.
What if the timing wasn’t wrong? What if this was exactly the moment to say yes?
I went.
That journey changed far more than my passport stamps. It opened the opportunity to travel with my spiritual community to a place my imagination dreamed of and introduced me to the transformative power of travel and spirituality. It gave me the practice of journaling my experiences and eventually led me to discover that that songwriting had become another way of making meaning from the road.
Most importantly, it taught me that some invitations don’t make sense until long after we’ve accepted them.
The thrill of becoming.
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A Different Kind of Strength
Fast forward to Uganda, where I found myself standing at another threshold: preparing to trek into Bwindi Impenetrable Forest to spend an hour with a family of mountain gorillas.
Before the trek began, we were offered the option of hiring what our guides affectionately called an “African helicopter.” A team of porters would help carry anyone who needed assistance over the steep, muddy terrain.
My first answer was no.
Partly because I hadn’t budgeted for it. Partly because I believed I should be able to do it on my own. But beneath those practical reasons was something more familiar. Somewhere along the way, I had learned that accepting help somehow diminished the accomplishment. I wanted to earn the experience through my own effort.
Then I noticed the conversation unfolding inside me. I had weighed the options, understood the costs — there was nothing left to analyze. What remained was a choice. Could I reframe the choice to see it as a gift?
I stopped arguing with myself and said yes.
I wasn’t just carried over rocky trails that day. More significantly, I was carried beyond an old story—that strength means doing everything on my own.
The porters’ strength didn’t diminish mine. They made an even richer experience possible. They laughed with me, encouraged me, steadied me, and celebrated with me. By the time we reached the gorillas, I realized was being welcomed into a different way of moving through the world.
What I was really learning was how to receive love in forms I hadn’t expected.
The current will carry you.
Already Flowing
Something else settled in after I got home.
None of these yeses were mine alone. Mrs. Campbell’s yes met mine. My spiritual community’s yes met mine. The porters’ yes met mine.
Even the river at Murchison Falls wasn’t flowing alone. Gravity said yes, and so did the gorge, and so, somehow, did the earth itself. Everything was participating.
Perhaps that’s what flow consciousness really is — not the absence of hesitation or doubt, but the recognition that life has been saying yes to us all along. The river knew. It never even doubted.
I’m still learning. I still notice my first instinct to hold back. But more often now, I find myself listening for the quieter voice. The one that reminds me that life is already flowing. Already yes.
And perhaps spiritual travel isn’t just about discovering new places and exploring sacred landscapes. Perhaps it’s about recognizing the places where life has been quietly waiting for our YES… until one day we realize we’ve been saying YES to life all along.
…while learning to step into that current a little sooner than before.
Continue the journey: Listen to The River Never Doubted, Donnamarie’s original song inspired by Murchison Falls and the reflections in this article.
About the Author
Donnamarie Mazzola is a longtime member of The Center of Peace in Philadelphia who joined her first Spirit Tours journey in November 2024. During the journey, inspired by the transformative experiences she encountered in Egypt, Donnamarie began weaving her reflections into original music that captures the essence of sacred travel.
Over time, her creative work has expanded to include lyrical narratives, visual storytelling, and multimedia projects that explore the intersection of travel and spirituality. Today, as a lifelong storyteller and creator, she brings her journeys to life through immersive and reflective experiences that invite others to see the world differently. In doing so, she encourages travelers to slow down, listen more deeply, and engage with sacred landscapes in a more meaningful way.
You can explore more of her travel-inspired songs and films on her YouTube channel, @DonnamarieMazzola
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