The Whispers Between the Raindrops

We’ve had a week of torrential rains since the new moon in Pisces. The Earth is soaked and I’ve been losing myself in the magic of early morning nature walks when the rain is still soft and gentle. Dreamy mists, cool breezes and the wetness on my skin, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. I’ve found myself pulled into a place of ‘leaning in’ and deep listening to the whispers between the raindrops.

I will always love the way that raindrops – free, full and falling little universes of their own – make my world stop. How they call me out of mazes in I’ve built in my mind and invite me stand in stillness and flow with grace all at once. Traces of yesterday are washed away in an instant and all that remains is this breath, this moment in time on a great journey to unknown places.

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Grasses and trees wear raindrops with such pride, glistening boldly with the lustre of such lush wet adornment. I’ve always wondered if they experience what I do…do they feel the pull of sacredness?

And do you? Do you hear the quiet whispers between the raindrops, the one that invites you down the path to presence?   

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We were Rain Dancers

These days the gods rumble in the dark wild sky, but no rain comes. Flashes of light cut through the swollen black clouds, but still wet days are few and far between. The afternoon sky is often a picture of wasted potential. Clouds gather like herds and swell, but they do not fall.

Perhaps they are in love, these masses of droplets leaning into each other, their hearts fused as one, so they do not want to part from one another. Or perhaps they do not love the great Mother Earth as they once did, no longer intent on falling to her feet to wet her soft body. The Earth doesn’t seem to cry about this. Instead, she rests in quiet presence and moves through moment to moment at her usual pace, seemingly content as slowly things in her midst begin to wilt and wither in a time when they should be lush and full.

It’s said to be our worst drought in almost three decades, and I’ve been hearing old songs of the land with new ears, ones that call to wild and ancient gods in the sky to send us rain. Drought is a humbling experience because it’s a time when the Earth reminds us mere mortals that we are not as in control as we’d like to delude ourselves into believing.

On days when I’m are fortunate enough for the heavens soak my heart with blessings, I walk in the garden and let the light touch of faint rain cleanse my body or I sit by the window to watch the showers fall. I take it all in, hold on to its preciousness like a forgotten piece of my soul and I think to myself – We were once rain dancers. Why don’t we dance for the rain anymore?

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The Process of Becoming

I search for wisdom and inspiration in Nature. To heal myself and to share the spiritual insights I find with others in the hope that what I experience and write about will heal them in some way too. On a morning like this when the silver light shines down from a dark grey sky into the humble life of the garden, Mother Nature makes it so easy to find what I am looking for. There is an ambiance of holiness in the air that I want to touch, breathe in and draw deep into the subtle parts of me. Stories write themselves in the breeze, bits of wisdom drip from the Cyprus tree and the clouds weave wild words in a language of their own.

I feel like a priestess in the herb garden this morning. It’s like the smell of the damp earth and rain awakens memories of another time, another life, and I feel the presence of Goddess even more. I pick some borage flowers and sage from for my morning tea and a thought crosses my mind. Doesn’t the phrase ‘heaven on earth’ seems made for days like this where pieces of heaven fall with the rain to touch the once dry soil? Because when the world is wet and grey, it is so still while a sacred glow falls over the land and to me it feels like an imagined heaven.

My pondering mind is full of questions today. What is in a raindrop? The secret dreams of the river queen flowing from the mountains to the ocean? And what does the tree feel when she’s soaked in raindrops that glisten like diamonds in the soft light? Does she revel in the coolness of their touch? Sometimes when the branches are heavy from their weight it seems like the raindrops are pulling the tree downward to the earth and saying “Look down. Look how far you’ve come! As you reach toward the sky, never forget the journey you’ve taken.”

Maybe the tree needs this reminder so that she doesn’t feel stagnant, rooted in one place for eternity. Maybe she needs to know that although she doesn’t flow across lands or etch meandering river course ways into the sand, she is still moving, charting her soul’s path as she branches into the sky. In fact, don’t we all need these reminders from time to time? We need to be reminded that no matter how slow or treacherous our journey may seem sometimes, we are always growing. Even when the heart’s desires seem far off, we are in the process of becoming. We are in the process of becoming the writer, the healer or the better version of ourselves that we so long to be. Half the joy of life is in the process, the experience and the journey after all.

While it’s never helpful to dwell in the past, it’s necessary sometimes to look back and take note of how far you’ve come, to take stock of the obstacles you’ve overcome and the circumstances you’ve triumphed over. Sometimes you just need to look back to count the stepping stones you’ve passed to know that you are actually moving forward and then be grateful for where you are right now and what you’re journeying toward.

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