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In the Rain
By Camilla Sandman
Sometimes it�s easier to see in the rain, than in full daylight. In daylight we see� Differences. We are all different, we claim, clinging on to it desperately, as if we would sink without it. We see too much differences, and too little similarities. And one of the biggest similarities we do not see at all.
But we all live in moments. Past moments, future moments. Moments of pain, of joy, of life of death. Moments are something we all have, and all we will ever have. The bind us together. For moments are like roadsigns on the road we all travel, each one trying to tell us something. Unfortunately, some are soon forgotten, some ignored, some even laughed at. It�s a miracle we see anything at all.
The truly rare moments however, doesn�t really stand out. Some people never get to experience them. They are the moments of true beauty, true understanding. Moments so rare he hardly see them for what they are until they pass.
One moment of true beauty to take with us on the bumpy road we walk�
This is about just one of those moments. Almost forgotten, almost gone, but moments of true beauty never truly vanish. They only get clouded by daily worries and the rush forward on the road. Hurry, hurry, see it all before the end of the road arrives.
But sometimes you see more standing still than you do running forward.
And so this moment of true beauty try to tell us that it doesn�t matter what you see, but how you see it.
This moment of true beauty came on a Sunday afternoon. It could have been any day, but this time it was a Sunday. A cloudy, rainy, day, the kind of rain that tickles your skin, and falls to the ground so soundlessly it�s like standing in a bubble of silence there in the rain.
All becomes grey in the rain. Alike. So we stop seeing with our eyes and start seeing with our hearts. And all sounds fall to distant backgrounds mumbles, all there is, is you and the rain. Some say rain is the tears of angels. But standing in this rain would perhaps have made you realise they are our tears. The tears we are too busy to cry, too scared, too angry, too tired to cry. We have no time for tears, only nature has, where a day can be like a century, or a century like a day.
This moment of true beauty was a moment of tears. Like rain brings life to nature, lets grass grow, flowers flourish, animals drink, so brings tears life to us. The moment of true beauty is also a moment of life, for life itself is true beauty. And to see this is to have true understanding.
These rare moments let us see life, let us open our eyes to see ourselves. For we too, are alive, nothing less, nothing more.
A rainy Sunday afternoon with nothing to do froze time. For one moment.
Nothing to do, nowhere to go. No hurry. One moment of true peace. In the rain.
And tears were shed for the foolish people, who refuse to see, afraid of what it could tell them. Afraid of seeing life, because in life there is death, and death scares them. But there cannot be life without death. Life brings death, and death brings life, and both are good. An unbreakable circle. To appreciate life we must see how precious it is, and only death can show us that.
By fearing death we fear life, and then we truly have nothing. Just a bumpy road with no view. And moments that have passed, too soon, unnoticed.
And this, rare moment of true beauty passed too.
Sadly, it passed mostly unnoticed by those running. And those who walk, have grown too few, and those standing still have long since reached the end of their road.
And our tears, are a moment too late.
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