Spring Rains

0
992
Share this:

Once upon a time and a very long time ago, a little girl sat on her rump next to the sliding glass window and watched the cold grey day sprinkle its rain through the spring sky.

The house was warm inside, but when she held her hand up to touch the glass, a penetrating cold radiated towards her palm and it fascinated her. It made her think.

She looked outside, the droplets of rain coming steady and light, the patio a stopping point for the water to puddle up and form little lakes. She wondered why all this rain was so.

Soon the light drops of rain became a rush of water streaming downwards as if the mighty rain god in the sky got tired of holding the bucket and decided to tip it over all the way. When the furious water droplets hit the ground, they formed half bubbles, the intensity of the fall absorbed in the puddles while the water domes floated ever so gently before bursting.

She counted. One, two, three…pop she said in her head. It was the rushing of the water falling, then the peacefulness of the bubble lingering that grabbed her attention and left her imagination percolating inside her head for many years to come.

It was back then when rain spoke of gloomy days and solitude, of muddy puddles and flooded out worms lost forever from the comfort of their dark confinement. It lamented bright yellow boots, warm coats on top of layered clothes and stubborn umbrellas that refused to open until a face became close enough to wap.

Rain ceremoniously produced a sanctuary for hot chicken noodle soup and crackers, the slurping sounds linked with the patter droning on the roof. And in her little mind she therefore concluded the rain ultimately existed to break the grey demeanor of the blue-less sky and allow the world to weep, be it in joy or sorrow in a private bubble inside themselves where long lost thoughts burst out from under the floating domes and relieved its owner of expired burdens or buried ecstasies.

Spring rain cleanses in all matters and forms. Mother Nature herself is so adept at cycles and changes and flows in and out of each with a gracefulness; she is the perfect showcase for renewing our own life and bodies.

Many already are dutifully switching their diets to green drinks, less meat, and revving up the body in sweat-inducing aerobic exercises to expel the excesses lodged inside the cells. But the significance of spring is lost when it comes to cleaning out the dark recesses, the cob-webbed parts of our mind.

The hard drive of our body, our brain, routinely abides by its program whether it is founded in madness or inspiration. Take time and allow the spring rains, if only metaphorically speaking, to wash out old thoughts and patterns so new state-of-the art habits can be installed. Seek out support groups or counseling that can expertly guide you into those waters. Busy frantic behaviors need to be stopped, leaving them outside while your mind closes the sliding glass door behind them so you can contemplate your self in a warm environment and watch unattached through the window the unwanted cold frenzy raining outside.

Meditation is somewhat like that, setting the mind apart and taking control of the helm long ago mutinied by choices made where old patterns wound up so tightly limit growth and potential. So whether you wash the mind through meditative yoga, counseling, or simply allowing precious time for you and you alone, the private domes of unwanted thoughts carried inside need to stop floating around and allowed to burst open so a complete cleansing can saturate your entire being and create a renewal for wanted habits to glide into place.

Let the umbrellas of denial hit you in the face. Wash out the hidden worms that hide in the shadow parts of your thoughts you refuse to see. And then nurture yourself with self love and gratitude for the cleansing soup you are slowly slipping towards peace within. Take it as a blessing to look forward to the spring rains for reminders of its cleansing and renewing nature into the beautiful life that exists not only in the green of the new sprung grass, but within the self ready to sprout into something new.

Share this: