After dinner this evening, my little guy and I were out in our back yard. He was riding his bike around our patio, while I was chilling on Pinterest. It started to get dark fairly quickly, the thunderstorm that had been called for all day finally showed up. I had enough time to get my son to look up at the fast-moving clouds, and start rushing to gather up toys to throw in the garage before the first drops started coming down. He couldn’t get his bike down from the patio, so by the time I got him up on the covered porch, the bike put away, and the chickens in the coop for the night, the rain was coming down steady. We ran in the house just before the wind started lashing the rain sideways onto the porch, the last storm that was like this knocked out the power for a bit, so we weren’t going to stand out in this one. Fortunately, the wind died down quickly, and a soft, steady rain followed.
Little guy had already wandered into the other room to play video games with his dad and big brother, so I went back out onto the porch and sat in my somewhat dry chair to watch the rain. I’ve been working more on being in the present lately, since I’ve gotten into the bad habit of constant cell phone checks. I installed a parental control app that limits my times I can get on my apps and had my husband create the password. Its helped.
As I’m sitting out on the porch, I just kept thinking/feeling that this was good rain for no reason in particular. We didn’t particularly need the rain, but this rain was just good. It was moderation, it was balance. It came before it was needed, and brought only enough to freshen. It reminded me of a small insight I had while meditating last week relating to presence of Gods and spirits. What I got from it was that They “are where They are, where They were, and where They desire to be.” Lately, I’ve been contemplating about how I fit into the Diaspora, and also how cultures migrate, assimilate, and shift throughout history. When working with spirits of place, and Gods associated with places, it can feel like being cut adrift. I think this feeling of dissociation is prevalent in American culture overall, but we’re so used to it that we fail to recognize or acknowledge it (this almost started into a rant, so I’ll save that thought for later).
One of the pieces that was obviously missing from this gnosis was the removal of my will; the Gods aren’t where I want them to be. They are independent agents, with their own desires and timelines and objectives, not mine. The best I can do is cultivate an environment where they are welcome and may desire to be. I’ve been working the past several years on manifesting my own change and growth (by employing some cognitive behavior techniques), and recognizing that the only thing I can control in this world is myself. And I have become a more fulfilled person through this process, even though I’m sure to the outside observer I am still a hot mess. But change takes moderation, and planning, which are two traits do not come easily or naturally to me.
This rain was a result of planning and moderation. Not to heavy, not too light, and arriving before it was needed. I am thankful that I was able to be present and in the moment with it, and I can move on with my day feeling balanced.