In a post that got deleted before it was published, I talked about how I was tired of the concrete jungles, the greys of the world and how I needed a chance to reconnect to the earth, to feel the grass in my toes and to find a balance in my soul. I grew solemn, the chance of that happening becoming increasingly apparent that I would have to wait. And I resolved myself to the fact that I would take a trip to a park or something. I knew I had to find a way out.
Sometimes you find a quote in your life that really impacts you-even if you don’t know it yet. For me, that quote came from the movie V for Vendetta. Evey had just come out of her captivity and walked out on to the balcony with the line:
God is in the rain.
And when the thunder rolled in to my little apartment, the clouds growing darker and the skies hiding from the sun, I realized that my moment had come. I took the dog out quickly, before the thunder became too much and then I left him inside with my husband and ran outside. The lightning struck, the thunder rolled and the rain began to pour in waves. And the smile on my face could not have been any bigger. Now I am completely aware of the dangers of being outside in a storm, but I have danced with the lightning for years, and I do not believe that the thunder beings will hurt me. That’s a personal belief-not delusions.
I realized that Evey was right. God is in the rain. And as I stood there, getting soaked through, I talked to him (and her). I asked and they answered. I thanked them for bringing me happiness, for finding a way to make me understand that I wasn’t alone. That I had the strength within me to battle my demons, to make a new start and to find my hope-wherever I put it.
For whatever reason, it became unacceptable for adults to dance in the puddles. There was an age when it was no longer what “ladies” do. But I have to be honest, each time the rain pours down, I feel myself being cleansed of all of the negativity and the anguish and the stress that I felt and being made new. And the thing is, I know to others I look silly. I look like I’m immature and irresponsible and wacky. But the way I see it, the only one who can decide if I’m being silly is me. And if dancing in the rain is how I communicate with my gods, then no one can take that away from me.
This past week has been rough. I’ve been dealing with some things that shall remain private, and it’s put some stress on my husband who has had to endure late night talks into the wee hours of the dawn and the constant need for help. He’s been a real hero about it and with his help, I rise stronger each time. So by the time the rain fell, I knew that it was sent for me.
I called and they heard me.