Sunday, July 21, 2013

spinning naked in the rain

I flew back to my home yesterday afternoon. It was a slightly bittersweet homecoming, as I felt derelict in my daughterly duties by leaving my mom on her own before she is 100% better. And to make matters worse, as the plane entered the airspace of “my own private twilight zone”, I felt it’s oppressive nature more intensely than ever.

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. 

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