Being Present in the Rain

I have always loved rain storms; like real full blown rain storms. The ones where lightening flashes and thunder roars. The ones where you think the rain might actually create holes in the ceiling.

Growing up in San Diego, these didn't happen too often, but when they did I loved the feeling of being warm and safe in my room, or car, or living room, or wherever it was I was; I loved the feeling of security as the outside was a jumbled mess of water and puddles.

Living in Mexico City means we've gotten to experience our fair share of heavy rainstorms, and again, I get to experience these feelings, but this time in my own home, the one I've produced a family in and there is something insanely special about that.

I am quite aware, however, that in the midst of these rainstorms many people are not sitting warm and safe in their home, but rather, they are on the side of a busy street, cold and attempting to find shelter under a store overhang; or they are huddled as a family under a makeshift tin roof they've created on the side of a highway ramp. In a country filled with such severe poverty, these things are hard to forget.

So tonight I am present in the rain, as it pours and reminds me of both the immense warmth and intense cold one can feel as an effect of it.