“What would I find out about the rain if I didn’t run inside?”
I saw this quote years ago and love it. I don’t know who wrote it, but s/he was probably a Washingtonian.
We’ve had a long dry spell, but tonight the rain fell gently for my walk. I wore my hooded parka so as not to ruin my hairdo. Yes, I’m kind of particular about my hair. But my hood made it hard to hear Mark and Tessa when they were talking and gave me tunnel vision. And then I remembered this quote.
So I risked my do and took off my hood.
We lived on a wooded acre growing up and I absolutely loved walking through the woods in the rain. Rain dripping off the end of my nose; rain catching on my eyelashes, rain running down my neck. Tonight the rain fell soft and steady. My hair flattened from its weight, but I didn’t care. Without my hood, my face was exposed to the rain and was cleansed by each drop.
It’s become second nature for me to run inside when it’s raining. I don’t want to get my shoes wet or have to dry off my clothes. I don’t want my hair to get ruined or my make-up to run. I just think of the inconvenience of rain. Tonight I was reminded of how much I love walking in the rain. Just like the smell of oatmeal on a winter morning, rain on my face makes me feel like a child again.
And, similarly, it’s easy for me to duck my head when I’m feeling drenched by life. I want to hide in my hood and protect myself from the deluge. I think only of how inconvenient and hard it all is. After tonight, I’ll remember that there’s a bonus when I poke my head out from beneath my hood. I’ll remember that I might find something I love if I just take a risk.