18 Nur 165 B.E. (Baha’i Calendar)
Soundtrack in my head: The Primitives, “Summer Rain”
As I was walking home, it started raining one and a half blocks before I got to my house. I had an umbrella in my backpack, but I opted not to use it. I wanted to have the experience of being rained on. I highly recommend the experience.
It was a light drizzle, but it soon became a steady rain. The buildings I walked by and the trees I walked under provided a little bit of shelter, but not much. I knew that my shirt would soon be spotted with raindrops, but I decided that this would be a badge of honor—one that would dry quickly, anyway. I made an effort to feel every raindrop land on me and take in the sensation, and smiled as I did so. Some guys yelled from a porch, “Hey, you know, it’s raining out.” I replied that I knew that, and continued to smile.
To some extent we have a choice as to how to respond to the rain that falls in our lives. I love the rain. As long as it doesn’t flood. Nevertheless, there are limits to the degree we can embrace the rain. I wouldn’t recommend doing what I did today during the month of March. At least not here in Wisconsin.