On Sunday afternoon, it was raining gently, soothing the landscape. I’ve always found comfort in rainy weather. It doesn’t matter if it’s this soft summer rain, or an exultant tropical downpour that lets a powerful sky run free. Rain settles me.
I needed soothing this week. I pottered about, doing not-much. All the big ideas I had, all the balls I threw up in the air, suddenly scared me. Why did I take all this on? Why was I shaking everything? Why couldn’t I just let be? Worst of all, I’ve started all these new projects, and NOTHING HAS HAPPENED YET.
My gut reaction is to find a book to read and hide in the bedroom. Preferably with mumps, or some other communicable disease that would keep everybody away and give me an excuse for not following through.
I did get a tummy bug, but it didn’t fool anyone.
The rain brought some perspective. I need to persevere for a while, without expecting miraculous breakthroughs. I need to post on my blogs, speak to new people, keep practicing, keep feeding myself, dressing myself, going to work. And some days there will be no big things to do, no new sprouts to show for it. Some days there is nothing to do but soak up the rain.