Rain-Mika
It is 3am and my room is flooded with white light. Really bright light. Blinding light. And every few minutes there is a huge bang that could battle the likes of the sound of an explosion. But I'm not mad that the noise and light woke me up out of a dream...a really good dream.... No, I'm not mad at all. I'm grateful and excited. Because finally, after what seems like forever, I've gotten the thunderstorm I've been wishing for. Yes. Wishing for.
I sit up in my bed, wrap myself in my comforters, close my eyes and listen. Listen to the raindrops methodically hitting the windowpanes. Listen to the crack when the lightning turns the night sky fluorescent-so bright I can see it with my eyes closed. Listen to thunder roll in like a wave at high-tide at the beach. I listen and it takes me back. Back to other storms on other nights, but mostly, back to one very specific storm...
I am 7. And 3/4. (Those 3/4 were very important back then.) It is nighttime and it is dark. I lay in bed, Winnie the Pooh comforter wrapped tightly around my head (Mr. Kidnapper? I am not here. Obviously. 'Cause you can't see my head! Or my feet! So you can just leave now and go to someone else's house!) And I am scared. Of the dark, of the aforementioned kidnapper who was totally on his way to come get me, and of the thunderstorm going on outside. I wasn't just scared, I was petrified. I ran downstairs to find my mom when I just couldn't take it anymore. But when we got upstairs, instead of turning towards my bed, she turned in the opposite direction. She turned towards my closet. She opened the door, pulled out a pair of flip flops and a jacket and told me to put them on. And then she left me wondering what alien had abducted my mom's brain as she went to her own room and did the same. Still unsure, I followed her down the stairs to the front door. She walked into the rain, threw her hands up in the air, face towards the sky, and danced. And she looked at me as if she expected me to do the same. There wasn't a chance. What if I got struck by lightning? What if Mr. Kidnapper was right around the corner and my mom closed her eyes just a second too long? Nope. There was definitely no way I was walking out that front door...But. It looked like my mom was having a lot of fun. And maybe I wouldn't get struck by lightning. And maybe the kidnapper was sick that night. So I did the unthinkable: I stepped outside. I danced in the rain. I faced my fears....
I chose to dance in the rain....Like no one was watching. And I loved it.
Fast forward 11 years. I'm a little older and it's a little later. But it's the same kind of storm and I'm not scared anymore. I have turned my fear into joy, my pain into pleasure, my hate into love. I have learned to dance in the rain. I have learned to face my fears, to take risks, to jump into the unknown. I have learned to trust myself, believe in myself and let go of my inhibitions. And those things? They translate well in most all aspects of life. And that's what this blog is going to be about: about not waiting out the storm, but instead, choosing to dance...like no one's watching.
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