"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my ship.”
-Louisa May Alcot
Have you ever purposely walked in the rain? You've committed yourself to a walking regimen and you're disciplined enough to stick to it even when it's raining.
I have a neighbor who walks his dog rain or shine. What a lucky dog! And what a wise neighbor. He's committed to Walking right through it.
He adjusts his clothing and footwear to the conditions, and he walks right through it.
A good anorak will protect you from the rain that falls, and keep you dry underneath. Oh you'll feel the rain as it falls, but a good anorak is made from a prepared fabric, so the rain, or the sleet or the snow, will roll right off. And a good pair of rubber boots will protect your feet just the same. They are made from one solid piece of rubber, so the likelihood of them leaking is slim to none. And they usually have a good tread on them which allows you to power through the mud without slipping.
But when you are out and about, disciplined as you are to your regimen, do you avoid the puddles, and the mud? Or do you walk right through it, secure in the knowledge that your solid rubber boots have got you covered?
I recently bought a pair of rubber boots, so that I'd have no excuse for not walking my dog in the rain. But when I was walking the other day, I noticed something. Even though I was wearing these great-fun, turtle-covered, green knee-high rain-boots, I was still avoiding the puddles and the mud. I must have associated, somehow, somewhere, puddles and mud with undesirable conditions. I certainly didn't see them that way as a child. In fact, I welcomed them.
Children are wonderfully resilient, and they instinctively know their rain boots are too. They know that a garden hose will wash away any mud that has clung to their boots, so they happily use them as they were intended. They walk right through. They know that tomorrow, they'll be starting with fresh boots again.
As adults though, sometimes we forget that we can walk through the rain, and still come out dry. We just have to choose to stay dry. We choose it by allowing the experiences to occur without avoiding them, and surrender to the fact that it's raining. When we fully allow ourselves to experience the unpleasantries that befall us, but choose non-attachment,choose not to cling, we are allowing our boots and our anoraks to do the job they were made to do. We trust they won't leak, because they're prepared for the job they are about to do. And we know that the garden hose will do its job when we return, and we'll be starting with fresh boots again tomorrow.
When we choose non-attachment, we are impervious, in a sense. When we choose non-attachment, in essence we are choosing to remain in the present moment, which is where there is no past or no future. It is, a "calmly resting, quiet trust", as Basil King, who quoth, "Be Bold, and mighty forces will come to your aid," spoke when referring to overcoming fear.
It is much easier to practice non-attachment when we practice being present. Because, we are moving on, moving away from, what was, and into what is. And
Is really all there is.
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
(But then again, Everything is Connected)