after the rain

This is going to be one of those thoughtful, introspective, maybe even stream of consciousness type of entries.

I love the rain, and even thunderstorms for the matter. It’s something about the ways it pushes everyone inside; how it urges you into cozy nooks, warm fires, deep porches, and favorite pages. And all the while the earth is being fed, the leaves brightened, and the paths and pavements swept clean. It’s the transition before clearing of sky that reveals all in a fresh clarity.

Some people talk about the “rain” periods of their lives as the difficult or sorrowful times in their lives. As for myself, it’s the times before the rain that are the worst. There’s the buildup, the open wounds, the weight of it all. Then comes the period where worst is removed, and areas are cleaned and cleared. What we’re met with then is a clear sky, air that fills the lungs instead of choking them, and earth that is ready to be used again.

Whatever the breaking point, I’ve found myself staring up at a clear sky once again. Only, I didn’t realize that’s what it was until after I’d spoken to an old friend. Whether he’s a muse or an oracle in my life I’m not certain, but I do know that the crossing of our paths always coincides with the writing of music. I love that the mysteries of friendships have the most wonderful and unexpected effects. It’s beautiful. I wasn’t sure that I really wanted the make the phone call. And if this was to be like any other time I’d just get his voicemail, but I took the chance. I’m glad that I did, and now I have a new song to remind me of who I was, who I am, and who I can be.

It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day that happens. All the while you’re waiting, hoping that what you’re dreaming of is going to happen, but still you can forget that this is temporary. It may be dangerous to live in dreams constantly, but it can be hell to live without remembering them. What I do now, what I sacrifice now is for what I know will come in its own time.

Certain people come in and out of lives reminding us of who we are and what truly brings us joy. In gentle ways our focus is redirected, our distractions forgotten. They often have no idea of their intervention. A smile, a conversation, a word, or even a memory will be the catalyst, and we are that to someone else.

Bella is sleeping in her little bed next to my Christmas tree, and I think I’ll find my way into my own.