by M. J. Joachim
The soothing sound of raindrops gently woke my tired soul. Ever so lazily, I stretched – first my legs, clear through the tips of my toes, spreading them as far as they could go. Slowly, my arms reached over my head, which turned as my shoulders reached for the opposite side, loosening up my spine.
My senses began communicating with each other, awakened to the gentle sound of raindrops on my roof and window. My mind anticipated the welcome and much needed rainstorm announcing its arrival outside.
Weather is often considered a thing of beauty for humans. However, it’s not merely the elements and temperature that make it so. Weather is symbolic and anticipatory of things to come.
Humans spend much of their lives working toward and anticipating the future, preparing and planning in the present, for what is sure to come to pass another day – somewhere, sometime, in the future.
Each moment, things are happening now, in the present time. Too often, we lose or miss the opportunity to see what is, while we’re working and hoping for what might be.
Satisfaction guaranteed, except there is no guarantee. Life seldom gives us what we want, exactly how we want it; even when it does, circumstances and details usually alter it in some minor (yet noticeable) way.
We learn to be flexible – or not. We accept the things we cannot control, or spend countless wasted hours trying to fool ourselves, with the notion that our manipulative skills will one day make it possible for us to rule our lives, no opposition granted.
It’s a fantasy to think such things, a neurotic driving force that is bound to make us crazy in the end – either that or bitter. I prefer crazy by a long shot.
Bitterness serves no purpose at all, except to kill our souls and endanger those around us.
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