If The Rain Thailand Were Music

If the rain Thailand were music, it would sound like this.  As I listen and look out into the clouds sweeping over the mountains, I can taste the rain. Like ginger on my tongue, it is healing.


Rainy season in Chiang Mai can be temperamental. The week before we came, it was monsoon like and nearly prevented us from going out on the cottages on the water. Uncharacteristically, once I arrived, all the way up until the last person left from the retreat, there was scarcely a sprinkle.  


As I cycled in the rain yesterday, a shivery breeze came in quick, like someone blowing cold wind up my skirt followed by a yellow thread that struck the road just a few meters in front of me. It was the first time I experienced thunder and lightning on this trip. A vast contrast to the gentle rain dances that came unpredictably each day.

Jarred by the closeness of the strike, I cycled hard and fast back to my guest house. Arriving sweaty and breathless, a sense of relief and excitement filled me. 

I felt alive and human. Feeling my body respond in fight or flight mode is to begin to know how fragile life is. Here today and reborn another day. Each rain seems to fall into the subtle wounds of my body and purifies me. My heart is open to it's cleansing powers.

"All afternoon it rained, thensuch a power came down from the cloudson a yellow thread,as authoritative as God is supposed to be.When it hit the tree, her bodyopened forever." ~ Mary Oliver