I love the calm after the rain.
Not the moment when it’s all dry and good and happy and people are outside doing their usual stuff again.
I love that moment when it just stopped raining and everything’s drained and wet and mushy and sad.
When everything’s still drenched and the clouds are looking down at the land saying “damn, that’s messy.”
When everything looks horrible and the land asks itself, “how could I possibly rise from this??”
I love that.
Leaves me wondering, does the land get impatient with the rain? Does it get frustrated with how much time it’s taking to achieve beauty again?
Does it think about the time it could be joyful and happy under the sun but instead, it’s sulking with the skies’ tears?
I don’t think so.
The land isn’t alive and it couldn’t care less. The land is the land.
But if the land had feelings, if the land were human, it probably knows that only time can tell. It probably knows that sometimes, just like this time, you just have to let things be. That no matter what you do, the world will test you and try to destroy you but like always, it wouldn’t be able to. That sometimes , you won’t be able to stop things from happening but like always, you will be okay.
It probably knows that patience is key when you’re down and drenched and eager to get better. It probably knows that beating itself up will not let the rain stop. It probably knows that the good part of life is in the other side of the dark clouds and the only way to get there is to let them do their business with you.
But the land isn’t human. We are human.
We are capable of knowing and understanding these things. We are capable of rising above our doubts and fear and impatience.
So just like the land, we should understand that this will pass.
Like all other storms, this too will pass.