Rainy Day Mystery

"As I grew to love ALL of who I am, life started changing in beautiful and mysterious ways. My heart softened and I began to see through very different eyes." -- Kim McMillen, When I Loved Myself Enough

I no more than opened this book and BAM-- there it was! Words to match the feeling that I hadn't quite been able to describe yet. I'm learning to love this life I've been given (trying to abandon the notion that I am sinning by loving life--those old patterns are deeply rooted), and in doing so I have never been so slow. Yes, slow.

When I was little, I used to shuffle my little feet to make noise with my shoes and scuffs on the floors (yes, I did this purposely--sorry mom), I liked the sound of the 'click, shhhhhwoooop, click, shhhhhhwooooop, clip'  of the different types of shoes I would wear. (To this day, this is the ONLY reason I will wear heeled shoes--I like the "important" sounding click, click, click of the heels) Needless to say, in a family of go-go-go-get-it-done-er's, shuffling along was obnoxious and impeding the speed of productivity. I constantly heard, "Mandi! Pick up those feet! Quit poking along! Pick up the pace, etc." I think I was just observing...but I don't know. I was too afraid of getting in trouble for "shluffing" along to continue. For years it was a constant effort to speed it up. I was always the last one. I blamed my poor attention span.

I'm finding myself shuffling again. However, this time for a much different and much more conscious reason. I've been missing out on some of the most incredible beauty around me for my entire life! I'm sick of hurrying up to get everywhere, or to get something done, or to just be done. There is no joy in that. Today I made a list of what I discovered while "shluffing" along in my favorite boots--rain boots, pink rain boots.

1. the somewhat silly "thwup, thwup, thwup" noise that the top of the boots make as they collide with my calves to the rhythm of my walking pace. This isn't something you hear with snow boots.
2. The intricate patterns that water droplets make as they glide off of the surface of my slick, pink rainboots.
3. Rain and spring smell like worms. Yes. Worms. Worms sort of smell like wet dirt. Rain smells like wet dirt.
4. It takes my frizzy, unruly hair about 15 minutes after going inside from the rain, to begin to curl in on itself. 
5. Closing my eyes and letting the rain hit my eyelids. Why doesn't rain feel like tears running down my cheeks? The sensation is very different. 
6.  No one looks up when it's raining. How come?
7. Sometimes when it stops raining, the opaque, white sky is brighter than a clear, sunshine-filled sky. It makes my eyes all squinty.
8.  Best of all...I was the only one who was actually searching for the puddles through which to drag my feet. A grown adult made a conscious effort to yes, stomp through the puddles. Not just stomp--a triple jump. Both feet, squat, arms-reach back, pull forward, and follow with the whole body...once! twice! three times! jump....jump...jump. Pure delight. Embarrassing? Not one bit. 

What does this have to do with loving myself? Everything. I loved myself enough to listen to the urge to slow down and notice a beautiful rainy day. My deep, blue, and wide eyes haven't seen this kind of beauty and mystery in a long time.