The Rain


For just a moment, I linger as I pass the open window, noticing the rain outside.  There is a sudden sense of longing… for something.  Shortly thereafter, I find myself staring at an open door…  and then standing outside it in the cold.  I feel the soft sway of the wind, the occasional stream of mist caressing my face and exposed arms, and I am… just… I am.

There’s something about the rain, something magical… Deep down inside me, something awakens, and it is beckoned by the rain.  I used to shower in rainstorms – shampoo and soap and all – instead of using the bathroom.  Now, with no backyard, and therefore no privacy, I take to wandering through the pouring water, barefoot sometimes, but dressed in something sufficient for the public eye.  I let myself be soaked through.  I allow for those few minutes for nothing else to exist but the cleansing, cooling rain.  And I am made new, all my tightness and strains and pains washed away.

It is as though rain is a cleanser sent from Mother Nature.  Even more so than snow, rain somehow cleanses the world.  Whereas snow makes everything seem new and fresh and pure, untouched (and it really just hides things under its beautiful blankets), Rain… rain washes away everything.  You can literally see the cleansing happening before your eyes, all those little troubles and sorrows being swept away, creating space for the new and beautiful to take root.  And every time it rains, I let the rain do the same for me, to cleanse me, so that I, too, can have the new and beautiful take root in me.

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