It’s raining now.
I can feel the drops on the back of my neck. And the back of my head.
Because my head is down. Because my chin is buried to my chest.
I’m trying to think. That’s still not working.
Maybe it’s the wetness. Maybe it’s the noise from this storm. Maybe it’s these piercing drops all over me. And all around me.
But I don’t know anything for sure right now. Other than the fact that it’s raining.
I’ve been through storms before. And I know they can’t last forever. But there is little sign that this one is letting up. Not any time soon.
And as I write this. I realize that I’m writing something eerily similar to my last post, about the fog. It’s the same actually. Like I’m still in the same place. Like I’m stuck in this same exact place.
I have come too far in this life to be stuck. I have too much strength. To be stuck. I have too many good people around me. Too many great people. There are too many people in this world that inspire me. Both living and dead. Too many people who I can point to, that have overcome seemingly overwhelming obstacles. Obstacles that I cannot even fathom.
And I’m sitting here. Paralyzed. By some fog. Frozen. By rain.
Like I’m helpless. Like I can’t do this.
I am beginning to process it all. My mind starting up again.
I know this doesn’t have to be like this. I know I don’t have to be like this. I know. Whether I want to believe this or not. That I am choosing to be like this.
I crouch down. I can see the ground underneath me. I see it with my eyes. I reach out. And I touch it with my hands. I press against it. It’s solid enough.
I realize that I can finally feel something. And that is progress.
It doesn’t make the rain stop falling though.
It still falls. Just as hard.
It occurs to me that. Rain is not the source of rain. So I look up. I know clouds are up there. Bringing this down upon me. Although when try to study the clouds. The rain fills my eyes. Stops me from seeing.
My head falls again. I don’t need to see it. I know that it’s me up there somewhere.
The rain still pounds my skin.
And I have nothing to shield me from it. No umbrella. No raincoat. Not even a plastic bag.
I am naked in this rain. And there is no cover anywhere around here.
I don’t think cover would do me much good anyway. The driving rain comes from all directions. From above. From every side. I think it’s raining inside too.
And for some reason. I don’t want cover.
There is something about this rain.
I had a thirst for this water. Maybe it will cleanse me.
Hagakure tells me, ‘There is something to be learned from a rainstorm.’ And when I read that passage the first hundred times, I never thought about it. Not correctly. Not like this.
Because there is more to learn from a rainstorm than what was said in that great book.
There is so much to be learned right now. In this rain.
I realize. Again. In this moment. That I cannot control the weather. I can only control what I do in weather.
It’s cliché. But that doesn’t make it any less true.
I realize there are so many things I can do in the rain. I know my chin can be up during the rain. I know that I can walk in the rain. I can run in the rain. I see birds fly in the rain. Why can’t I fly like that? Up in that sky. In this rain. I know that I can. I can sing in the rain. I can dance in the rain. I can play in the rain.
Whether it’s warm and sunny or a complete downpour or even a hurricane. I can do anything I want.
But in the midst this storm. I don’t much feel like singing. Or dancing. Or flying. I don’t feel much like I want to do anything.
I realize something else though. Something I’ve grown to know. I can control what I think in weather.
And right now I’m thinking that I need to do better than just sit here. Crouched down. Head buried.
So I pick my chin up. Looking up. Looking out. And I use my strength. This strength I have taken so much pride in building. And I hold it there.
I may not be able to see too far out in this weather, but with my head up. I can see this path. And I can see a few steps in front of me.
And I start to walk it.
Maybe if I build enough speed and momentum on this journey. I will run. And eventually fly. While it may not be too soon. At some point, I will get to the edge of this storm. Then fly out of it.
In the mean time. I will just start walking. It is enough that I am starting to move in that direction.