Rainy Season

And the rains they came. The monsoon season has started here. A day earlier than expected. Shows how much we silly humans know. It’s grey, humid and wet. The sounds are soothing. The repetition is somehow comforting. I’m sleeping better although I have less energy. Walking up the hill to my place from the subway station feels like my legs are made of concrete. Feeling wild, I ordered a latte with half a shot of espresso and the next day had a pounding headache. My joints ache. My life right now could be an advertisement for all of Pema Chodron’s books: When Things Fall Apart, The Places That Scare You, Taking the Leap, Comfortable With Uncertainty. You get the idea. It’s a time of transition, of uncertainty, of stepping outside of my comfort zone, of making choices and putting my agency behind them (as Ruth Chang would say). A group of friends I’ve leaned on these past few years has sadly disbanded. Although it wasn’t sudden, it’s still sad. What was sudden, though, was my friend’s loss of her twin fetuses at almost twelve weeks. I was able to offer her some comfort. These things happen. Nature is cruel. It’s not your fault. Still it rains. Then there was the death of my friend’s brother who was walking to meet his friends near the river where I had been just a few days before. It was a taxi, they said. It came out of nowhere and now he is no longer. Silly humans. Inside and outside are grey. But rain is good. It can cleanse and help things grow.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *