Thoughts on a rainy day

Natural  bamboo fountainIt has rained hard since early afternoon. The window screens are matted with the rain, the back yard is soggy, and the weatherman tells me that the roads are flooding out there just beyond my neighborhood. But outside my window, in this sudden respite from the deluge a bird has begun to sing, loud and clear and beautiful. Now a symphony of other birds is rising in the distance, joining the song. I can hear the steady drip of water from my downspout and the rustling of a faint wind in the maples. Night has fallen and in this sudden quiet I feel quietly peaceful. There is something refreshing and cleansing in the rain, and something beautiful in the sudden quiet when it stops. It’s all good.

That’s what I’m learning and leaning into more and more these days: that it’s all good. Rainy days and warm, hot, sunny ones… clouded dark days and brightly lit ones… quiet nights and busy afternoons… it’s all good. I think that perhaps the only thing that is not good is when I fail to experience whatever the moment holds … when I “drop out” of awareness and forget to take in what’s happening now.

When I was much younger I tried gardening – very briefly – and stopped, because I found that when I worked in the earth, even for a short time, I seemed to lose all sense of time, lost all sense of myself, lost awareness of everything around me, the doing of it so captured me. I remember feeling uncomfortable about that. I read books with the same total absorption – but when I “wake up” from a book, I recall it completely and nothing feels lost. I’ve prayed many hours when I lost all sense of myself, but when I awoke again I didn’t feel lost but somehow “found.” So what is it about plunging my hands into earth and digging and planting that troubled me? It’s a mystery to me.

But for now, I’m going to count it all good. The mystery and the wonder, the forgetting and the feelings.

There goes the rain again, drumming on the roof and clapping against the windows. The birdsong has stopped again, until the next lull in the rain. I think I’ll stop thinking about it now and just listen for a while.

Blessing to you!

 

[Photo courtesy of paiche59 – Fotolia]

 

 

Author: Linda Robinson

Writer, sketcher, Christian contemplative, concerned citizen.