Today I Long for Rain
September 16 is a strangely emotional day for me. On September 16, 2010 I was rolled into an operating room and, unbeknownst to me at the time, would be the first day of the rest of my life. And while I feel incredibly blessed, I also mourn. Last night, as I mourned alone in the quiet of the night I penned these words:
I was sitting on a bench downtown. The smell of fresh baked pizza being prepared at a nearby restaurant permeated the air. Children were laughing, cars filled the street and all around me the world moved forward, completely unaware of me.
It had been a very hot day, but the heat alone was not problematic; the humidity left the air feeling thick and weighty. A sticky blanket weighted me down. But as the sun began to fall toward the horizon a cool breeze had cut through the heat and chased away the thickness. The leaves danced gently on their branches and seemed to celebrate. It was going to rain.
Within moments the heavens opened up and a warm, soothing rain began to beat down. I closed my eyes and made no attempt to take refuge. I could hear children giggling as they stomped by, almost certainly seeking out any indication that a puddle was forming, all the while their mother urged them to hurry. I recognized the sound of wet tires on pavement, and an umbrella being opened.
Eyes closed, I could feel the sweat wash away from my skin and as I became less aware of my surroundings I began to feel refreshed. It was easy to imagine the smell of my Sage and Sweetgrass Deer Tallow Soap, and as the rain beads pelted my now soaked hair I became lost in the sound, the feel, and even the aforementioned imaginary smell. I opened my lips just slightly and breathed in and felt little streams of the liquid moisten my mouth.
Water. Life giving. Delicate and fragile. Powerful and mighty. In our mother’s womb we are protected by it, cushioned and enveloped. Each one of us has had the same experience: we floated naked, completely vulnerable in water. Surrounded.
Naked and vulnerable regardless of race, gender, socioeconomic status, sexuality. All the same. Naked and vulnerable.
As little streams ran down my body my mind seemed to be cleansed of all thought, and in an instant I became consumed. All I heard was the rain. All I felt was the rain. For a few brief moments I was at one with it, having allowed myself to become its prisoner, I felt it across every fiber of my being, I breathed into it, I worshipped with it, surrendered to it.
I had successfully escaped from grief, anger, uncertainty, and pain. The tumor that clung almost violently to my spinal cord and tauntingly stole my mobility and independence drowned. All I heard was the rain. Free from all distraction. Pure freedom and all encompassing peace.
Today I long for rain.
