When I was a little girl, I used to be terrified of the summer storms. They’d manifest so unexpectedly, and with enough ferocity to shake the house.

“It’s hurting the sky,” I remember crying to my Mom. “No,” she smiled. “Just the clouds letting us know they are there.”

My mother had the charming gift of perspective. With just a few short words, she could put even the most unsettled of 6-year-old hearts suddenly to ease.

In time I grew to realize, not even the most ferocious of storms could dare to pierce the sky. They exist in perfect balance; each offering what the other so desperately needs.

Through their delicate mixing of blues and grays we find our edges, our definition…our context. Perhaps then, in this regard, the rain is what joins the heavens to the earth?

And, offering its gift of unconditional acceptance, and a connection impervious to even the most demanding of rains.

“After every storm,” writes Shannon Adler “there is a rainbow. If you have eyes, you will find it. If you have wisdom, you will create it. If you have love for yourself and others, you won’t ever need it.”

Perhaps, this is the lesson of the falling rains? A reminder that within every puddled and oft’ in welcomed drop, there is an opportunity for grace.

For those with wisdom enough to see…and courage enough to let the rains ‘wash it away.’

Namaste, my loves ~ ❤️