To Dance in the Rain

When I first stepped outside this morning, I was rudely awakened by a pestering raindrop that landed right on top of my head. I had expected a cool, crisp fall morning, but instead I encountered a clammy, humid, and rainy greeting from the world. I grumbled as I realized that I didn't have an umbrella, and it didn't help that I had just spent twenty minutes fixing my hair only to have it frizz instantly when I stepped off the front porch. I walked to class, frustrated by the inconvenient rain and concerned that everyone was looking at my hair and murmuring, "What's wrong with her hair?" As I was complaining to myself about the rain, I recalled an experience from this past weekend...
I had come home from college for the first time since I began my freshman year, and I had brought a friend with me. Eager to show her a good time, my mom and I took her to a little shopping center with roundabout drives, small shops, and romantic lights at night. We were enjoying a wonderful night on the town when suddenly, out of the cool night, raindrops started to fall faster and faster until the whole shopping center was running for cover. I recall the laughter that my mom, my friend, and I shared when we finally found a dry place and took a look at each other. Our clothes were splattered, our hair was plastered to our faces, and our smiles were genuine as we laughed at the sight of us. With no one else around, we danced in the rain. We weren't worried about what other people thought, we weren't concerned about the inconvenience, and my mom didn't even care that her leather seats got soaking wet on the ride home. To dance in the rain was to experience a child-like freedom that lit our faces with joy.

After that class, I went back to my dorm room and pulled my polka dot rainboots out of the closet. I left my umbrella resting in the drawer, and I went outside to dance in the rain.

Life rains on us sometimes. We can either worry about how it makes us look, stress out about the inconvenience, grumble about its consequences, or dance in the rain.

Comments

  1. I love the reminder of the sweet memory! I'm smiling! You are so much fun! love you, xoxmom

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