|Waking up this morning I was surrounded by the soft sound of rain falling heavily around my room. The sound changes as I sit in my morning quiet time space. The roof here is flat and the sound has a slight metallic ping to the raindrops plunking down.|
Quiet is hard for me, but it is something that I have been intentionally cultivating this year during my morning routine. During this morning’s reading the rain fluctuated from plinking to downright deluge, the roar of it overpowering the piano hymns playing on my phone (a tactic I use to keep me from playing on my phone). The quiet is disrupted by the external downpour.
But after the short outburst of rain, the soft plinking returned, the yard looked fresh and clean. My thoughts turn back toward the ideas of what I want or need 2019 to become. It’s still a bit jumbled and not exactly planned out. Rich and I are going to be doing that together over the next few days.
What I do know that I heard during that quiet moment is this…
The rain washes away the grime of 2018, the failures, the coulda, woulda, shouldas and leaves a clean canvas for the new possibilities that 2019 holds.
The sound that is left after the deluge is full of opportunity, promise, and most of all… hope.