There is a beautiful descent of moisture occurring outside right now. It gracefully arrives from above on it's journey to the ground. People who see only in the general category of "rain" miss out on the myriad of varieties, joys, and beauties in the wide spectrum of possible precipitations. Right now it is a light and whispy fine thick mist, generously spaced, and proceeding downward at a gentle rate.
I am a rain geek. I am choosing to watch the wetness fall, to write about it whilst drinking my yerba mate (to which I've added a sprinkle of organic Cherry Haiku Japanese sour cherry green tea for Sunday fun) rather than read my hydrotherapy coursework. Heh. Apparently I'm caught up in several other forms of hydrotherapy: drinking tea and watching the rain fall. I shall continue with it for awhile more before returning to the slog of school work, on this great and unique, never to happen again, day.
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The first time it happened was last year when I visited my brother on Quadra Island. I lay in bed, the day behind me, and it being so quiet in the woods I slowly became very aware of my own heartbeat. And the passing of each one. Never to happen again. Another beat closer to the end. Another beat less on the old ticker. But it was more than these concepts and expressions. It was an experiencing and becoming more viscerally aware of my mortality, the event of my life moving towards the inevitable cessation of my physical form. It was very cool. Since that moment sometimes I rub up against that memory, that mood, that truth, never since as strong or as long as the first, but against it again never the less.
Another beat forwards,
another beat on,
another beat on,
make the most of them all,
another beat on,
another beat on,
before they're all gone,
another beat on,
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