The Epiphany of Rain

The sky darkened, and with the light fading, the sky came to life with a rumble. Little water droplets pulled down by gravity, glistening and falling in slow motion.

A drop hits my face. 

It glides down the crevices, going all the way down until it reaches the end of its path and drops to the floor.

It was pitter-pattering as a little flurry of sprinkling rain, but it quickly turned more into a spring shower; the rain started falling faster and heavier from the sky.

The rain is cathartic. The rain is rejuvenating. The rain is washing away any and all of life’s past transgressions.

I bring my hand up and feel some small particles clinging to my skin while others slide smoothly down to the ground.

I cannot bring myself to feel happy about the rain truly. It sends me mixed emotions that course through me.

While providing comfort and second chances, it also gives a new slate, which bothers me. This is why I cannot fully enjoy the rain; why I cannot let myself be wrapped up in its warm caress and promise of new beginnings. 

I cannot let myself be lured into forgetting all of my downs because they highlighted my ups. They are what made me who I am.

The rejections I have faced. The times I have tripped, fell, and failed.

There are times when it does not matter how much I try, all the aspirations and hopes for the future that I have dreamed of, all of the expectations that are associated with what I reach for, there are times when I will fall short– where I have stumbled and fallen, sometimes face first, into all of my fears. 

At times like this, however, I cannot stay on the ground forever. I have to wake up and face the music; I have to get up and stand in the way of whatever the future has for me next.

As I walk across the stone pavement, I think about all the times I have fallen. All the times I have scraped my knees and gotten hurt, but I do not find myself entirely sad. It is not a memory that conjures downward feelings or leads me to spiral. 

It is because I have fallen, and I have gotten up, each and every time. 

I do not want to forget about my scrapes and bruises, just like I do not forget how the landscape used to be before the rain.

Now, it is all just being washed away– drenched in the afterthought, pouring down on the crooks and crannies of forgotten yet significant moments, and washing away all of the past. Making it so that the landscape is able to be squeaky clean and shine everything down to nature’s perfection through its shower of new beginnings.

The shower nature has bestowed upon me has drenched me with an epiphany.

It shined a light to look forward to each time I trip and fall. 

It has become something to look forward to beyond bandaging the lacerations that life has thrown my way. It is the coming up. It is the after, the application of the balm, and the healing of the scar. It is the getting up, trying out, and seeing what the capabilities are of what has been healed.

There are times where the skin feels so renewed, so fresh with ability. It almost seems like there has been a blessing with more skills and more mobility. 

It is a renewed sense of doing—a renewed sense of self. 

It is something that always fills me with pride each time. Pride in getting up after the fall, not forgetting about the pain but pushing through it. 

These are all of the thoughts the rain conjures into me. It brings me bittersweet emotions– something salty but sweet. It brings me sadness for what I have gone through but happiness because I have pushed through. But of course, there are days where I do not feel so great, but the rain is always there to remind me of life’s circle of the ups and downs. 

There are days that are great, and there are days that are not so great. There are days that make me question everything, what I have accomplished, and what I have gone through. 

Overall, it is the fact that the rain is here to remind me that I am alive and that I am pushing through what life brings me every day. The rain washes over me, dousing me in a refreshing embrace of a promise of tomorrow and the hope for the future.