The blessings of rain ...

Orvalhando
Originally uploaded by Herodoto
It has been pouring here for 3 days now. I normally would find this very irritating and challenging. That is not the case this weekend.

One of the blessings of rain is that all of the dirt tainted snow has washed away, allowing the ground to receive the nutrients of water to prepare the soil for blooming Spring flowers. I look forward to watching them unwrap themselves as the gifts they are.

Another blessing has been the appreciation of intimate activities indoors, gathered with others who, like me, were willing to get wet in order to be together for a purpose. Two of these were my AA meetings on Friday night and Saturday morning. Suited up in drenched raincoats, we filed in, one by one, dripping and grateful to be there to hear a message or to carry one or both. The Saturday meeting attendance was surprisingly huge and it reminded me of the commitment we each have to our sobriety regardless of weather conditions.

On Saturday afternoon, I attended a Loving-Kindness workshop given by Sharon Salzberg. A local friend was celebrating her 50th birthday and wanted to go to hear her; her brother generously bought 3 tickets as his present to her, allowing her to invite a friend and I was the lucky recipient. There were probably upwards of 150 people there in a moderate size meeting room of a Unitarian church, piling in like wet creatures looking for dry shelter. It was both cozy and crowded -- the perfect "set-up" for doing Loving-kindness meditations. On a break, we found a sweet, open spot at the back of this room -- like a secret retreat that allowed us ample space for meditation AND connection to the group. This area was much damper and chillier than the other part of the church; thankfully, my friend's brother, who is a Buddhist teacher, came well-prepared with cushions to sit on and comfy blankets to drape ourselves in.

As we were guided by Sharon to sit with our breath, she also invited us to take in the sounds. All I could hear was the splashing of water onto the road along the front of the church, cars whishing through huge puddles and it was really calming to listen to this while nestled indoors. Like how I feel listening to the waves at the beach -- this was, instead, an urban ocean of sorts.

Our last meditation was the full Loving-kindness meditation in which you say: May I be safe; May I be happy; May I be healthy; May I have peace. And then you do this for a loved one. A friend. A neutral person. A difficult person. And then, every being. Interestingly enough, the "difficult" person was right in this very room. An ex-girlfriend was attending and made it a point to come over during a break, complete with the same intrusive and narcisstic qualities that found me exiting that relationship fleeing. It's been 2 years now. I chose her to send the meditation to when it came time for the difficult person. It allowed some room for compassion, some distance and peace. I will remember that Sharon said we could offer these to anyone, anywhere -- especially when we are impatient and irritated.

Last night's blessing of rain brought a lovely group of people together, at the height of the storm, in the gorgeous foyer of the building I live in for a drumming circle and potluck meal. It was a fundraiser for an old friend of my landlord's who died of a rare disease and the monies collected would be given to the hospice that cared for him in his last days. People traveled from near and far to be at this event, even having detours because of the flooding conditions. Most people had no connection to each other, other than to my landlord who was hosting this OR to her friend that she was memorializing. She is a piano teacher and has a beautiful room with 2 baby Grands. And a boatload of percussion instruments. It wasn't long before the pulsating drumming began and each of us got behind a large bongo or with a tambourine or some other noise-maker and communicated through the language of rhythmic sounds and beats. We did this for HOURS, taking a break here and there to graze at the potluck buffet or enjoy the hot cider.

I awoke to rolling thunder this morning, under the warmth of my blanket and my little poochie. No need to get up early, having lost an hour due to Daylight Savings. Just listen to the waterfall on my windows, the gusts stirring the windchimes. A symphony of nature. The blessings of rain ...