Tear Water Tea

It is raining yet again and I think of my Mom.  Mom loved the rain and as a little girl I remember her opening the windows rather than closing them during a storm.  I think that I am falling in love with rainy days.  Waking up early to the sound of a storm, the splats of rain on the window and distant thunder claps like a boom drum muffled has a calming affect on my fluttery spirit.

Rain appears to us as an interruption to our “best laid plans,” and yet the pause of rain can allow reflection where ‘hurtings’ are healed,  emotional feathers are stroked back into place, and the deluge from the sky can become an oasis of calm.  anigif_enhanced-20289-1410889430-19

Rain is a little sad.  When my girls were little we loved the story of owl and his “tear water tea.”  (Arnold Lobel)  Owl knew that snuggling up and sobbing about utensils that fall behind the stove “never to be seen again,”  “mornings nobody saw,”  cleanses the soul.  I am refreshed after a good cry and feel a sense of “alright – that’s done – let’s get to work.”  Just like Owl recognizing that the teapot he fills up with his tears will make tea that is a bit salty, it is always good.

Yes rain is reflective; so I hear the thunder in the distance, my tea is hot beside me, I snuggle into my chair, and I think of those I love and cry a little at my failures vowing to do better, and I decide to call my sister today.


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