When it Rains

There's both a beauty and a sadness in rain. Actually, it's the beauty of sadness. Sadness in a quiet place, with the sky working to wring it's grayness out in the form of rain - rain that will clear the way for the sun to shine again, perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow - maybe next week - it doesn't matter, for today is about stillness.

I've heard people tell of sadness that doesn't have a reason (they call it depression). I know this well. Feelings are like that - they don't follow the logic of the neocortex; they have their own internal logic. Rain reminds me (when I pay attention) of the times when manic life is suspended for a pause in the eternal; the bigger thing on which all the crazy little things in life depend. If you think "God", you get my point. It cam seem invisible until it rains.

And that's what it's for, this sadness - this rain. To draw attention to the difference between doing and being. Certainly in the act of doing, we are being - but we'll never know that unless we pause and let the rain in. To be sad is surely to Be, and that in itself is a good thing. One beauty I have today is that I can actually accept, even embrace, my feelings for what they are. Rain and all. In so doing, my feelings can feed my spirit, and my spirit can thrive.