I played in the rain today.

The white-noise symphony of a billion droplets quenching the earth had lasted throughout the afternoon. We gazed out of our open windows at nature’s catharsis, and I felt that I too needed cleansing.

Let’s play in the rain, she says.

We walk out of the door and onto the steps. The noise that had filtered into our apartment surrounds me, becoming a part of me, transporting me from the cocoon of our appropriate place and into something shamelessly real.

Simply knowing becomes feeling, hearing, experiencing as the cold droplets patter my skin upon a hundred places at once, my hair transforming from a mop of curls into dripping, drooping tendrils.

The appropriate homes down the street stay appropriately dormant as their occupants sit nestled by the appropriate fires, the rain happening like a gray afterthought. The very rain that is sensually overwhelming me.

Yes. Let’s play in the rain.

I want to experience the rain.

Life seems to get easy at times.

I've arrived recently at a point in which I've thought that I may be figuring out things, as if I've finally gotten that bird's eye view of myself moving from one point to another throughout this life-game.

But I've been thrown off-kilter again. Just when I've thought that I've come out of the rapids and into open water a wave throws me back into another course. Though I may see the new situation with blinders on, facing each new fall as it comes to me, I'm armed with the knowledge and the wisdom from my past experiences.


So I'm excited about this new challenge, for it's adding yet another facet to my character. Life seems to get easy at times, but I don't want for it to stay that way. How else can I be weathered into a stronger, more life-experienced person?

Thank you, God, for humbling me. And for keeping life interesting.

I'm done. I've been finished with the semester for five days and I've been taking advantage of a new peace of mind. This semester has been quite hectic. It's been the sort of time in which one feels guilty for reading a book or having a day on the town, one feels guilty because the weight of what should be getting done is constantly on her mind! But that time has closed for now.

That's something that's interesting about school. Unlike most careers, one can look forward to the end of these one hundred thirty-two credit hours knowing that the burdensome assignments shoveled onto our reluctant little schedules will disappear, the slate of academic responsibilities wiped clean upon a designated hour.

But thinking of myself having a job that has no definite, ending deadline is exciting. Attention would turn from the due-date, from that ever-brightening light at the end of the stress-tunnel, and to the overall effect of my work.

As a student, my whole life has been spent moving towards inevitable promotions: elementary to junior high to high school to college. I've graduated to the next level mostly based on elements that aren't in my control, elements like my age and the expectations set by my parents.

But in a career, out there in the "real" world, I have the power of my direction. I believe in the cliche that every decision makes "all the difference," and each choice could be a crux in my life (there are reasons why that is a cliche).

The power is in me to be recognized as a person whom I would respect. It's comforting and exciting to know that that, on the other side, there's a production much more profound than my transcript.

So, yes. I'm done for the semester.

I'm done with the essays and the tests and the busywork. And when the papers pile up this fall and I feel like my levee may very well be breaking, I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that the world is a much bigger place than the presently looming halls of academia.