Why the rain means so much

28 Jul

Remember when we were still a child, nonchalant and devil-may-care and we’re told that raindrops will turn into chocolates? And with this exciting thought, and as child-chocolate-cravers that we are, we go out amidst the ravaging rain outside? Then we look up, spread our palms in the air, close our eyes, and wish-upon-the-raindrops that may these droplets turn into chocolates? I do.

But it never did. Unfortunately.

Yesterday, while typhoon Nock-ten hit Central Luzon with a storm signal 2, I wanted to go out from the office and run through the rain and let the mud splash on my clothes, just feel carefree once again. I also craved for a bottle of beer, wanting so much to have it slide smoothly through my throat while peeping out from the window and watch the spectacular dripping of waters from the unforgiving gray clouds encircling the endless sky, enticing bursts of sound and light in every direction. I was aching to get home and have this craving granted. But it turned the other way around.

A friend and I, after seeing the house where we will be moving in very soon, braved the winter-like cold and sweeping wind with hot soup in tow. We found our way to a simple eatery house where foods with transuding and enticing aroma are plenty. We stayed for a couple of hours just enjoying our hot soup oozing with toothsome whiff that it made the pour down of heavy rain outside a melody in my ear.

After a series of jovial moments, we decided to get up and head through our own ways.  As we stride through, the rain seemed not getting enough of our already shivering body from drenched clothes. Wanting to enjoy the rain outside, I asked R where the nearest coffee shop is. We directed our feet towards the place and we gleefully agreed to grab a cup of coffee (just me, by the way) that would somehow free us from the unbearable cold. And because I can no longer wait for the rain to turn into chocolates, we grabbed a couple of chocolates and excitedly contented ourselves while I was secretly wishing for the rain not to stop, yet.

Along our tripping-amidst-the-rain, I asked R how he feels when it rains. He simply said: A very welcoming time to lie in a soft bed, coil in a silky-soft blanket, like a fetus in a womb, and doze off to a sound sleep.  Probably he was thinking to wrap himself up in a big blanket and fall completely to pieces while biting his nails and listening to his favorite song on repeat.

He asked me back and I can’t grasp for an answer right away. But I wanted to say: It’s a haven, a safe place to conjure up all your emotions and enable your senses to reflect back from your day-to-day activities. Because the rain exudes with a scent so intoxicating, so vibrant you yearn to step outside to inhale as deeply as you can. Because it is only in the clamor of rain that I am able to pacify my ever-weary mind to think back and breathe an air of gratitude that I am always able to go through life head on.

Don’t get me wrong with this. It’s not as if I am this overly emotional gal who would rather spend her “emo moments” during rainy days. But there is just something so strong in the rain that it stirs so much of my nerves up to my neurons eventually putting all my emotions in summon.

Now that the storm has passed, the color of the skies turned back to blue, the branches of trees halted from banging, the strong wind pacified, and the atmosphere became suddenly peaceful. An echoing silence springs through, so vivid and consuming that it seemed to have made the Earth stopped from turning for a moment. It is simply . . . quiet.

Then I realized that the best part of the rain isn’t the rain itself, but the calm that follows it.

Because without the storm, we can’t appreciate the sweet stillness that comes with the sun peeping through the window; because we’ll never appreciate life without myriads of storms that will pass us through; because we’ll never realize how right it feels to just sit down in a corner, listening to your favorite music and just let the hour pass by without taxing your brain with unending to-do-list; because we’ll never realize how exciting to spend one rainy night with a friend and share hot soups and coffee together. Because it is only in the tranquility of the day that we are able to appreciate how life can still be so good after the devastating storm.

And because the silence after the storm emanates into my soul and I feel the peace within.


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