Sadly, there were no rainbows on this flight…
Peeking under the half closed window hatch, I was greeted by
a foul gray-brown layer of haze, aligned slightly above our flight altitude: A miasma
that extended well beyond my line of sight. And, while logically I know the layer
of grime was likely caused by the numerous wildfires assaulting our fair State -
as they do every summer - the smog certainly echoed my frame of mind.
After maneuvering the mosh pit of excited vacationers,
exhausted travelers and WAY too much luggage in Lindbergh Field, I was once
again reunited with my homeboys. Both as
excited to see me, as I was to see them. Hugs and kisses, a guilt-tinged sigh
of relief and a bone crushing fatigue welcomed me home.
I awoke from a fairly comatose sleep to overcast skies,
which was befitting my subdued emotional state this morning. Slow motion seemed
the most prudent pace for such a shady day – how else should one move while in
limbo? Not sure – but it appeared appropriate. The most exciting part of the
day was a trip to Trader Joe’s to restock the “magic pantry” that apparently
becomes empty and cavernous whenever I’m away.
On the way home, the tailings of the southern monsoonal
moisture hit us. Ahhhhh! Sweet, scarce rain! Sure it obliterated my windshield,
but moisture - no matter how smattering - is a welcomed sight here!
In fact, to me, there is nothing as naturally revitalizing
as a mid-summer drizzle: Warm, inviting and cleansing. It’s the kind of phenomenon that beckons one
to strip down and run amok in the backyard. A lure that is almost impossible
for me to ignore.
And this afternoon I heard the soft call of the raindrops’
song: Beckoning me to come outside, buck-naked, and play for a moment in my
backyard. Coaxing me to twirl around like an unadorned dervish and allow the rainwater
to begin divinely rinsing away the unnecessary weight of the world from my worn-out
heart.
Rumi says it best:
“I dissolved as a
grain of salt
in your Sea of
Serenity:
Nothing remained, no
faith,
no certainty, no
doubt.
In my heart a star
was born
and inside all worlds
dissolved.”
Can dancing bare-assed in the rain save a soul? Well, for me, the
“twilight zone” now seems like a distant memory, and I definitely feel a freer
energy moving within me. And while the pain and overall grief still live here,
I feel the windows of my heart now give a little clearer view of the paths of
my life that lie ahead.
Photo - http://fbuk.deviantart.com/art/Rain-Dance-03-67033662
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