Day 18: Dancing in the rain

I got rained on, twice this week.

Well, sort of.

The first was when I was doing a writing prompt from Natalie Goldberg's Old Friend from Far Away. The prompt was to write about a time when you remember rain. They were sparing, my rain memories. My mental list started with me standing under the umbrella with my husband-to-be at the time, braving the rain to see Donny Osmond at a state fair -- I was over the purple socks but not too old, apparently, to see a one-time dream in flesh.

I also remember the torrential tropical rain I tried to outrun but ended up tripping infront of a line of traffic waiting for the light to turn green. And, I remember taking shelter from the rain-wrapped tornado that ultimately gave me a cover story when I worked at the local daily.

But the list stopped there. My pen dawdled over the lines and then fizzled out altogether. The memories somehow weren't prompt -worthy.

Then a few days later, I recieved an e-mail with this quote (thanks, Mari):

'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.'

And it hit me. I'm always trying to get out of the rain, to outrun it, take shelter from it. I don't remember if I ever just stood in it. Even as a child. And why not? In its purest, rain is the primary source of water we drink. It is wetness from the clouds that quenches the thirst of the earth. It's a handful of fun words: a sprinkle, a drizzle, a shower, a spell, a spray.

My life has always been about surviving the storm or avoiding it. About preparing for the future or fixing the past. Never just about sitting in the rain.

Or dancing in it.

Hmm, wonder what the weather's going to be like tomorrow...