Everything is in flow here in Northern Michigan. Buckets of water have flowed off the snow-covered roof. That water, along with the melting snow banks is finding its way down the hills to my driveway. I no longer walk to the mailbox, I wade. The maple sap is flowing too. Drive by a good stand of sugar maples and you'll see them all connected with plastic tubing, ultimately leading to the sugar house where the steam is rising. And the creek in my backyard is bursting over its banks.

In the 14 years I've live on the creek, it has taught me many lessons. One of the most important is the nature of flow.

Flow is not always the shortest path. When the creek encounters resistance, like a rock, a downed tree or the dam the beavers are building just down stream from me, it does not go through that block. The creek is not concerned with keeping the path short. It goes around, over or underneath the resistance as a way to stay in flow. Yes, over time, it wears down the resistance, but that's not its primary concern. So like the creek, when we take the path of least resistance, we too flow. The creek is always moving toward lower elevations, downhill, rather than fighting the uphill battle. Image how wonderful it could be to reach your every destination without effort.

We've all experienced flow in our lives. Athletes call it being in