What is it about rain that people like so much? I suppose that is a rather hypocritical question, as I lie in bed looking out my windows at the tropical palms being bombarded with the little tiny missiles that fall from the huge grey zeppelins in the sky on this cool May night, gazing at the familiar scene with the same love and adoration that I have since day one. I was never a child who was spooked by thunderstorms as some are, instead I would cuddle down deeper into my pillows and be taken far away from where ever it was that I was sleeping.
Rain on Earth is an inverse microcosm (macrocosm) for life, I believe. We are all but entirely at the mercy of the rain, there is absolutely nothing that any human being on the planet could do to stop the clouds from condensing and the droplets from falling. The clouds know not of the floods that they might cause, the rice fields they may ruin or the day plans of any family who so wanted a day at the beach, they know that they’re becoming too heavy holding on to all that water and so they let it go. We as people are rained on every day even if you live in the dry Californian sun, you are rained on. The kids at school or the people at work, your boss, your parents, your own thoughts and everyone around you will rain on you with negative comments that would never have crossed your mind had you not spoken to them. Within this, I believe that the saying:
A stream does not cut through rock because of its’ strength, but because of its persistence
must be remembered. Many a person is broken every day by this sort of rain; little comments and remarks day after day that at the moment of conception within the mind of who ever was insensitive enough to say it, never had malicious intent. But they always add up, everything always adds up and is kept, stored away for the day that these people need to find the strength to lift the blade to their wrists one last time or the gun to their temple and believe me you that they will hear your voice in their heads speaking your opinion that you thought did not matter.
But the clouds gather too, each molecule of water collected is held inside them for some time in one form or another, but the magic is that eventually they let it go. They let it go! For some time the skies are dark and it seems that all hope is lost but just as the night passes, the clouds move on and the periwinkle atmosphere is present once more and all fear is gone. The darkness is hardly remembered for the beauty of the new dawn is of such great clarity that it seems worth it now, those brief moments where all truths were revealed for the final time before being recycled into new and glorious things: absorbed by the roots of trees and grown into leaves, sucked through the gills of the fish in the sea as they paddle to new oceans, billowing down enormous rocks in cascades so breathtaking that innumerable poems, songs and books were written entitled ‘waterfall’ and taking up 72% of every human being on the planet.
I was going to write some elaborate explanation for the macrocosm, but hopefully my passion has leapt through the screen and you and I are connected in such a way that I basically have my fingers on your temple, illustrating my ideas through telepathy. If not, come back tomorrow and the day after until you think you get it.
Love and light always.