How I Learned Magic In the Rain
You might find it strange to discover that someone from Portland likes rain. But then again it might make perfect sense. Why move here unless you love rain?
In either case, you might be surprised what it is I like about it. It’s not that I look good in a rain jacket. Though I have been meaning to buy a trench coat. It’s not that I find the grey skies match my jaded mood.
The reason I love rain is that it’s lovely. Rain is an embodiment of pure beauty. Rain is the simplest form of generosity I have ever seen.
Here we are minding our own business and then from thin air, water. The life giving substance that makes up the majority of these simple celled bodies pours from the sky. Sometime I wish I could embody even one tenth of the potential that rain offers.
Rain is fair.
It falls on everyone equally.
Rain is dynamic.
It drips, it pours, it drizzles, it falls sideways, it dumps in huge drops, and mists with fine subtlety.
Rain is simple.
If you stand in rain, you get wet. If too much falls it floods. Too little and you create a dessert.
Rain is full of possibilities.
We are rained on again and again by the same water. Flowing into the earth, into us, and then back into the sky.
As a child, I wanted magic to be real. And then I learned about science and for a while, it seemed like magic was gone. But when I stop to think about rain, there it is.
Water bonding to dust, making sculptures in the sky only to pour back on us again. A giant of dust collapsing under it’s own weight. What could be more magical?
This is what rain means to me. It reminds me that being alive is amazing even if I can’t see it.
So the next time you find yourself caught in the rain. Stop. Unhunch your shoulders. Close your eyes. Turn your face to the sky. And feel the blessing of rain.
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