It rained last night
Last night the pit, pit, pit, of the rain hitting the window and the low growl of thunder pulled me back to the past. I used to sit in a smaller barracks room in Japan, and watch the rain hit the window as the thunder growled and the rain fell.
There is something about that water that calms me. So I would go deep into the calm. Sometimes I would go out in the rain and throw my head back to feel the drops on my face. When I got too cold I would wrap a scarf around my neck and deploy my umbrella.
I remember a lot of rain and snow. Sometimes the snow near Misawa in the mountains would be so high that we couldn't drive through the roads. If we walked on trails that we used in the summer, the snow would be almost hip deep. Sometimes I would walk in that snow so I could meditate. My legs churned the snow and the quiet would wrap around me.
I still wonder how a people like the Japanese who live so close together can have that ability to be calm in crowds and to have very little personal space. My personal space is huge.
It is all mental, I suppose. And a lot of societal politeness.
So last night as I listened to the rain, I saw snapshots of an umbrella, misty lights, and fireworks over the lake. I saw the mountains and the small cities on the coast. The little boats that bobbed on the water. I saw the little red shrines.
Sometimes I miss the little coffee shops, where a woman bows as you enter and brings you little cakes with your coffee. I miss eating slowly and talking to friends. I miss that slower pace.
I'm grateful for the memories.