Little Rain

 "I could use a little rain

Beating on a windowpane

While we listen to the tin roof sing

A love song all day long"

- Morgan Wallen, Little Rain (2018)

***

A few weekends ago, I went to paddleboard at the beach on a Saturday morning, completely alone and not a soul to be seen.  

(I'm sure my parents would be thrilled to read that I'm alone on Lake Ontario.   Hopefully they miss this post.)

I watched the water as the waves swelled nonsensically, back and forth, without logic as to which direction they were going to turn next.   

I questioned if I should take the board out and then decided to do it anyways.  

I remember thinking, "I'll just go straight out a few hundred feet and turn around and come back if it's too tough."

(Again, praying my family isn't reading this.)

It was a crazy exercise in balance.   As I stood up, it took a second to get my bearings.  I held the paddle in the water to use as an anchor and feel the current.

And at first, I fought it.   

I found myself praying and trying to reason with the lake.   

Come on.   Settle down.

Come on, pleeeeease calm down. 

Seriously, this can't possibly last long.

Any second now.

I started to hear Melinda's voice, my yoga teacher.   

"Your body will do absolutely anything to avoid discomfort.  That spot that you want to avoid, that one you want to move past.   That's the spot to stay on.   Stay in it.  Feel all there is to feel and then let it go."

I started looking ahead. 

How much farther before the water calms?   How much longer until Mother Nature settles this all down?

I was getting antsy and thinking of turning around, wishing it would end.  

The irony was that I was already too far in.  

I looked back at the shore and looked at the direction I was heading, and out loud I literally said, "Okay, what do I do here?  Do I just call it?"

And then, clear as day, this is what I heard in my mind:

"Nice and easy Sarah.  

There is no rush.  

Watch your balance.   

Steady yourself.  

Breathe.   

You only need to focus on this wave, not all of them.  

Use the current to your advantage.  

That's it.

Watch the wave. 

That's it.  

Feel it.

Nice and slow.    

Ride it out.  

One wave at a time.   

Slow and steady.  

Find beauty in it all."

I could feel the lump in my throat.

Find beauty in it all.    

I took one wave at a time across the lake, and as I got to the bay on the other side, the water was like glass and the sun was twinkling on the water.

It was like Mother Nature was winking at me. 

She's pretty smart that lady, isn't she?

Perhaps that's the point.

To find beauty in it all.

One wave at a time.

I try so hard to get to the other side as quickly as possible, praying for a little rain, but maybe, just maybe - the lesson is that there is beauty in it all.

❤️