Sunday, July 17, 2011

Gift of a Monsoon Rain


Thunder grumbled. The sky moved like a muddy river, swirling and shifting, unsure of its direction, festering, moody, passionate. Long grass on the edge of the jungle moved in waves, the wind playing, racing with excitement, inviting me to hurry. Was I too late?

I closed the screen door behind me, the worn wood edge catching my skirt. I slipped my feet into my sandals only to take them out again, leaving them where I found them. This was my first time. I wanted to do it right.

The flagstone was still warm from the heat of the day, my toes delighted as I leapt from stone to stone careful not to touch the dirt. Not yet. I looked up and around, my hair licking at my eyes. Where? Beneath the orchid tree or the banana leaves? Beside the white ginger and the poinsettia? With my back to the vine covered wall? Or out in the open, my bottom in a mess of grass, my eyes arched out to see?

I chose the orchid tree with its heart shaped leaves and graceful curves. I found a niche and plopped down, just as the show was about to begin.

One drop. Then seven. Then too many to count. I wanted to watch. To be a part of it all. But it came down so sudden. And hard. Harder than any rain I had ever known. Harder than any shower I had ever known! Dirt turned to mud, drops turned to bucket fulls, and the orchid tree sagged. I sagged. My body more soaked than if I had just stepped out from the soul of the storm itself.

First my shirt, then my skirt. Useless. Sticky saran wrap clinging to my skin. I peeled them away then dropped them with a plunk into the middle of the mud. There was no one for at least a mile away. I was in the Southern Highlands of Papua New Guinea. The middle of some of the heaviest, most uncharted jungle in the world. And while tribesmen knew where we lived, they never came to visit unless a fire was burning. Unless a cake was in the oven. Worry? I was better off worrying about missing my chance!

They always say to dance naked in the rain. At least once before we die. And we always smile when we dream it. When we see it in our mind’s eye. But how many of us dare to do it? How many of you have felt the rain dance on your skin, on your chest, on your belly, covering your face and legs and feet with kisses? And why haven’t you felt orange mud splatter the backs of your legs as you stomp and twirl and fall into a giggling mess upon the ground? Why haven’t you given your Self a gift like that? Yes, why not? For I’ll tell you a little secret: It’s one of the most treasured memories of my entire life.
 *          *          *
Brynne? He sang out from the safety of the covered porch, his voice a muffled cry through the still gushing rain. You ok?
I waved, my smile bigger than it had been all week.
Magic! I yelled, as I gave him a twirl.
My laughter bubbles, rising as fast as the rains dared fall.

20 comments:

  1. Wow - what was I thinking - wishing the rain away - come back...
    really amazing post. :)

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  2. thanks, Jo.:) Do you get some of those super heavy rains down there? I can imagine you doing your rain dance in Africa one day....

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  3. Magical, indeed! Such surrender. Such freedom and, as always, beautifully described...

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  4. Surrender. Freedom. Great insight. Always a pleasure, dear Tracey.

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  5. As I read "They always say to dance naked in the rain," a smile krept onto my face. I did't notice it there until I read "And we always smile when we dream it." I hadn't thought of that dream since living in the Dominican Republic, where they call it "bañando en agua zero." Thanks for the reminder--I'll keep in in mind for Tanz!

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  6. Oh, Betty!! I can imagine reading about it..you in Tanzania!! JOY! Can I come play, too??! We'll have to plan my visit for the rainy season!! Oh gosh...now you got me dreaming even more than normal for a monday! What a friend!:)

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  7. I took flight reading. I haven't had the pleasure of dancing naked in the rain, but I've experienced feelings I think are similar - being free and unencumbered. I cherish them, always. What I enjoyed was the feelings you so perfectly describe so effortlessly. I think a person can hold on to this place in their heart and soul and call upon it when needed...

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  8. I loved the last sentence. I felt that you were flying away at that point. Great stuff. I'll be back.

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  9. You are so right, Brenda...it doesn't have to be about dancing naked in the rain. Its more than that, isn't it? Being free, unencumbered, surrendering to the moment, letting it sweep you away to wherever you are meant to fly...yes. yes. YES!

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  10. In way I think I did fly away. Is that what happens when we connect with a secret joy inside?

    Thanks for visiting Storycollector. I *do* hope you come back:)

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  11. Lovely! It sounds perfect and, here in the rainy NW, all I have to do is wait until nobody's around to try it...

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  12. I think that just reading about dancing naked in the rain put a smile on my face. Why on earth didn't I think about it before? One more thing on my to do list then!

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  13. You can always find a nice patch of woods, Kario! I grew up in the PNW, so let me know if you need some ideas:)! Thanks for visiting!!

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  14. And to think, Muriel...there are so many lovely places to dance naked in the rain in rural England! Wish I could help you chose the perfect spot! Then for *sure* they'd think you were crazy (a reference to your recent post)! Hooray!!

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  15. Love the idea of dancing in the rain. I spent 40 years in the NW, giving me many opportunities, but now I'm in California and it's a little more difficult to find the raindrops, let alone the privacy to drop my knickers and dance. I will have to find my opportunity though! Thanks Brynne!

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  16. NW, Scandinavia, California...we have lived in many of the same places, Annie. You can always come visit me here in the summer time! Its been raining monsoon-like for weeks now!! And...I have a walled in secret garden! Always nice to find you here, Annie.

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  17. Lately all we do get is rain/rain/rain. My lawn is a muddy mess - yuk !! So I hide inside by the fire, making soup after soup. Tonight tomato is on the menu - I can smell it - starving as I am...LOL

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  18. Sometimes I forget that the seasons are the opposite on your end of the world, Jo. Its a lot harder to stomach dancing in the rain during the winter time:) I'd chose fire and the soup, too!:)

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  19. a very magical experience. Brynne you are one special girl. Im glad to know you! I hiked part of a semi public trail shirtless once. It was SO nice. I was mostly flat chested back then and when a guy passed me going in the opposite direction, I looked him right in the eye, and swaggered like a man using body language to trick him. He thought I was a guy and passed right by while thinking nothing of it. He never even noticed! You should have seen his double take when he saw me later that day on the mountain, with a shirt on and he realized his mistake. haha

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  20. What a GREAT story! Its almost as if your intention or energy changed his ability to see!! WOW! And how funny to see him later with his shock! I bet you laughed! And still do! I know I am!!:) Thanks for sharing, Sara!

    And thanks for calling me a girl!:) You know how you have 'old' days sometimes? Where we suddenly realize we are aging (physically) right along with everyone else? Well, I had one yesterday but I think you made up for it with that! Hooray!

    I'm glad to know you, too, dear Sara. Come play with me anytime, dear soul!

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