11:07 AM
I want to write about the rain. It's been on my mind a lot lately. I've grown to really enjoy rain. It gets a pretty bad rap. But growing up in Massachusetts has led me to the certain truth that rain is alwyas better than snow. Always. In college, I would sometimes find myself caught in rain as I walked bvack to my dorm at night. By senior year, when this would happen, I had already gotten into the habit of choosing to walk back with my hood down and umbrella in my bad. I like control, and I have a nasty habit of trying to control as much as I can. But rain will not be controlled by a person. It-s too big. So after a long day of managing my classes, organizing homework, preparing and running acappella rehearsals, and jumping around to and from my three different jobs on campus, my soul really needed, not to LOSE control, but to have it taken from me...because I never would have chosen it myself. Walking in the rain was one way-- and sometimes the only way-- I reminded myself that I could not control everything. And that is okay. Recently, I've been stressed about our calendar. As a self-stated lover of control, I really love calendars and planning. That being said, it's like tequila-- good in moderation but can (and will) lead to self-destruction. There are many calendars I look at...
Ash Wednesday was one of these days--it was a lot. I was back at both of my worksites after spending the weekend through Tuesday in the war of Carnaval. Lots of plans. I ended up attending Mass twice, which is a challenge because Mass is still a hard place for me here in Ecuador. Half-way through Mass, everyone heard the rain start. I looked down to realize I didn't bring an umbrella. Of course. At the end of Mass, I walked ot the back of the church where our director, Manny, was standing watching the rain. Me: What are you waiting for? Manny: It's raining. Where's Henry? Me: He left. Let's go. As we walked our a few steps Manny turned to me, Manny: Are we going to run? Me: Are you gonna melt? I'm walking, it won't kill me. We'll just get wet. We walked more and I told him that whenever it rains I always remember a former student, Chloe. She loves the rain, so when I feel myself impatient in the rain I think, "Chloe would love this!" and I typically feel better. Gratitude is pretty magical. Manny turned to me... Manny: I actually like this! It's refreshing. As I took my hair out of the bun I'd had in all day, I shared about my cross-campus walks and the reminder that I'm not in control. And we laugh because we're SOAKED. We arrived abck to my house and shared a mutually wet hug and appreciation for the cathartic walk. Manny left and I felt calm for the first time in a week. Rain does that. It cleanses us and renews us--if we let it. One of the kids in our neighborhood recently asked me, " ¿Vas a bañarte en la lluvia?" and I answered her, "¡tal vez!" (maybe). In college, and on Ash Wednesday, I needed moments of cleansing to wash away all the things that make it hard for me to see and feel clearly. When you're getting soaked in rain you can't worry about your schedule, your Spanish level doesn't matter, and typically you can only focus on that moment. Rain demands presence and cleans out everything else. I feel like my emotions mimic the rain cycle. It all builds up until water needs to start falling. I've always been a fan of water and mesmorized by it's grandeur and healing powers. And I think that's it... water seems to heal me: the ocean, tears, and teh rain. I would say I'm blessed to be here, in this place that breaks me and heals me, wears me down and gives me life, shoves me in metaphorical (and literal) mud and then cleans me off with some of the strongest downpours I've ever experienced. It's thick mud but it's stronger rain.
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AuthorHi! I'm Kate and I am spending the next year in Ecuador as a volunteer with a service organization. I am using this platform to share pieces of the journey as I go. Archives
May 2019
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