Come, rain

rain-boots

Melbourne winters are cold & wet. the rain arrives at your doorstep, dressed up. whether you are or not. whether you are ready or not. there is a sense of determined purpose about it; about its showing up, appointed to its season; about its feeding the earth with its life-giving nutrients.

It pours & drizzles, floods & ebbs. sometimes it hails & screams & threatens to destroy. these are the times we are reminded how small & vulnerable we are; puny specks on the face of an earth that has the power to swallow us up in a second. nature can overwhelm us with a force that is often times incomprehensible.

But the rain is a blessing too. it comes bearing gifts of freshness & renewal. it feeds the earth in ways you & I would never know to do. we have no clue what the ground we step on needs – we don’t listen to its woes & cries. we are not privy to its pain. the rain is. & it comes to wash away that hurt. it comes to nourish & heal. even in the places we ourselves have hurt.

The earth knows a joy no human syllables can hold in their hands. we have no language for it. we see it on the face of roses that have been kissed by raindrops & in the deep green of tree leaves that have drunk deep from the earth’s bowels.

Stand in your house & watch the rain fall from heaven. sometimes it’s solemn. smells & memories of childhood come flooding in. that smell of the earth soil after the first rains – rich & full-bodied. playing in swamps with no care in the world. long gone sights & sounds of happiness & glee.

Life is an ever expanding canvas. sometimes we can paint with our paintbrushes however we like. & other times, life pushes us aside & masterfully, sometimes even painfully dazzles us with its big brush strokes from one end of the fabric to the other.

Like the rain, there are moments that come washing into our door with packages of blessings & bliss. & there are other moments when everything falls apart at the seams, failing to hold on to each other in that lovers’ embrace.  the safety in what we know threatened by a deluge of fear.

But every day is a day to be washed. to come clean. the rags come off. the deep rooted stuff confronted. the confusion the world hands you on a silver platter returned to sender.

Every day is an opportunity to live as you would live if you would live. there is nothing about it that says safe in the conventional kind of way. but there is a safety in being genuine about your flawed self. it has little to do with how amazing you or your life looks on instagram. it is everything to do with the person you are when no-one is looking in on you; the person you are in the darkness when the lights turn off & the crowd have all gone home.

It is everything to do with integrity – something we can learn a thing or two about from the rain.

in its showing up there is no feigning importance or glory. there is no fakeness. it shows up not to be seen but to do a job. to water the earth & replenish us all. we witness its might once in a while but season after season, its quietness in fulfilling its purpose is almost overlooked. sometimes it’s even a pest as we angrily open our umbrellas cursing it to the death. it’s unpredictability casting a shadow over our Sunday brunch & picnics in the park.

There is a giving inherent in rain falling. the sky opens up its heart and gives over & over again. no questions asked. its soul is uncorrupted by the nastiness we do to each other. the acts of them it witnesses day in & day out. even when we don’t deserve rain, it shows up. undiminished & whole. for now. soon the earth moves on its axis & winter in Melbourne gives way to spring. another season for grace & hope & growth.

In the meantime, we give thanks for the rain. we hold out for it. we let it remind us of the things that feed & nourish, giving strength to our bones. we learn to hold out our hands for the richness we cannot grow for ourselves. the one that lives unquantifiable in things of the soul & the relating of one to each other.

We learn to whisper, come, rain.  even as we stumble in the paddles, because we know that the world is beautiful after the rain. Come, rain.

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