Lately, I’ve been thinking (a very dangerous pastime, I know). I’ve been thinking about a lot of different things, and mentally writing blog posts about them in my head as I go to sleep.
But I’m not going to write about any of those things right now.
I’m going to write about the rain. Because it is lovely, and lonely, and beautiful, and dangerous, and a blessing to the earth.
I know motivational posters say phrases like “rain leads to rainbows etc etc,” and we ourselves tend to say the same such to friends in difficult situations.
But I disagree (though I too have been guilty of speaking those easy, but truly comfortless words).
Rain is lovely to all the senses. Touch, sight, smell, sound, taste, rain is uniquely its own.
Rain is also a wholly present phenomenon. If you pay attention to it, it brings you out of the plastic bubble filled with yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s worries that we each choose to immerse ourselves in.
Rain makes it so that you become truly present to the world around us. The leaves jostling each other in the wind. The raindrops streaking your windows and cleaning your poor neglected car. Pattering on branches and concrete. Splashing puddles. Dark clouds. Bright spots breaking between, where the sun plays peek a boo.
Rain in our lives is not so pretty, I know. I’ve had it, though you could argue that each person’s rain cloud takes different forms at different times. In fact, you could prolly say that I have had a whole summer of rain. It’s been hard for me to enjoy it, to feel the wind as a friend, not an enemy, to smile at the dark clouds.
But I’m learning. Learning to feel the icy splash of water as a call to wake up to the world, learning to see the bright spots, and appreciate the moments of each day as they happen instead of crying over yesterday.
One day, I hope to greet metaphorical rain the same way I do physical rain. But until then, I’ll just keep catching cold, because it’s raining outside and I would honestly rather be there than at this computer pondering my life.