Learning to Dance in the Rain

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

(Saw that line on a wall hanging. I really want one like it, because the sentiment strikes me.) 

All of us have had tragedy in our life, if you live long enough, you cannot avoid it. At the least, almost everybody has lost a loved one, which is an unavoidable tragic fact of life. Everybody has faced some sort of adversity. We have the choice of letting these things lay us low, or of standing to face these things with determination, optimism, and a dash of humor. 

Most people take themselves way too seriously. I’m guilty of that myself sometimes. I tend to get caught up in my own problems, tensions, matters of the heart, and forget that the troubles I face are troubles that some people would give their arm to have. I don’t face illness, poverty, living in a war torn region, or enslavement. I’m one of the lucky ones.

The greatest tragedy of my life, or anyway, my greatest disappointment, is my relationship with my youngest son, or lack thereof. I can and do dwell on it sometimes, tearfully and with an aching heart. But I also realize that it isn’t something I can change. He has made the choice to live in isolation from his family and from those who love him. I can only hope that one day he will chose to rejoin. I do keep up with him, through other people, as best I can. But I don’t know what goes on in his head and I so much regret our distance. My most sincere hope is that he finds peace, but I worry that he never will. 

My mother was an unhappy person. She suffered all her life with bouts of depression and melancholy. She always felt beleaguered by the world. I think there’s a strain of this kind of personality in my family. I don’t know if Mother ever found peace. I suspect that she did not. She never wanted to face her demons, or to accept responsibility for her own happiness. It must’ve been hard for her -- the life she chose. But she was the type who would never have sought help, and even if she had, she would have argued for the status quo. 

I think so many people have difficulty accepting the fact that life is hard. In the time of cavemen, it was finding food, shelter, a mate, those were the hard things. In reality, those same things drive us now, and sometimes make life seem unfriendly. We hate our jobs, we struggle to make the mortgage, we have tribulations with loved ones. It is so easy to let those necessities of life overwhelm us and sour us, to keep us from seeing the little joys around us.

The sky is lightening outside the windows as I write this. Fog sits heavy on the ground, Trees are starting to turn yellow, a few leaves beginning to fall. Yesterday evening, as we sat out with the pets, we noticed birds are migrating through. Suddenly, white-wing doves are arriving in flocks. A couple of hummingbird stragglers stopped at the feeders, although most have already come and gone. Two cedar waxwings lit on the barn roof. And the moon, as it rose, was just a shade shy of full. 

I don’t remember how city folk unwind, it’s been so long since I lived in a big city. But I do know that there are ways, maybe with friends, sharing a meal, laughter, a good book. I garden. I embroidery. I read. I play with my animals. I cook. I sit in my SO’s embrace -- or maybe just watch the sunset, quietly. It’s the little things that make life worthwhile.

Onward ....