Saturday, March 1, 2014
10-9-13 RMB Rain Wonder
10-9-13 RMB Rain Wonder
Dear Rita Mae Brown,
It rained today, really rained. This is a welcome rarity in the area of southern California where I live. One friend used to love the rain when she lived here. Then she moved back east, where it rains more than it doesn’t rain. Does she still love it or has it become a nuisance? Is it still magical or just annoying? When we get used to things, we no longer see their magic. We become complacent.
Here, it rains and we all go outside to “see the rain”. We stand a moment and marvel at it, taking in the sight with wonder, smelling its scent, sometimes stepping into it feeling its touch. I drove home through the center of a rainbow. It stretched from far off on one side of the road to far over to the other side, with the road in the center.
As I write this, hoping I never lose the wonder of rain, it settles in just how many aspect of life have become so common that they no longer inspire wonder. We are a demanding folk. We want the clear running water in our taps at the ready, the shop down the street with anything we could possibly want or need and every other convenience we have become accustomed to.
I sit here in wonder of all that came to pass to make this life possible. Numerous souls traveled here before who labored, invented and invested of themselves to create the world we live in. The earth itself evolved to its current state offering natural resources and landscapes of grandeur.
If it is a truth that gratitude makes everything better, what an opportunity we overlook daily in our complacency. All that surrounds us is deserving of wonder, of gratitude, yet wonder eludes us, as we struggle and complain, wrangle and argue, working to fit square pegs in round wholes. Are we ever mindful, as we toil with the task at hand, that this is OUR contribution to someoneelse’s future?
Could we take a moment to look around and say “thank you”? Can we watch what we create, no matter how minute or how great, whether it is a phase, nay even a word, or a work of art, or an invention, or the contribution to a child learning math who will go forth, applying that math to the equation of his life, to his contribution? Can we take care to make whatever we do, all that we are, something that carries forward the best of us?
With wonder at all there is and all there could be,