The ceremony of rain-bathing

The rainy days have started and this rain bathing has become a ceremony of sorts to me.

Back then in my younger years, I have always celebrated the coming of rain. For me, nothing compares to the peace that it gives as drops gently spatter in my skin, every tickle send sensations I cannot fathom or explain but can only appreciate.

This afternoon gave me reason again to celebrate.

A foreboding cloud suddenly made me excited and giddy. This one, I thought must bring a lot of precipitation. And I was right. I was ready to begin the ceremony.

I would undress, leaving only my shorts. I would hesitate at first, reach out with my hand, a moments pause to feel it all and then I charge in the open. Look face up and then I close my eyes. There, as the noise fades out in the harmony of its gentle spattering in the earth, only at that time, I become one with nature, with the universe. Every drop reminds me to be grateful that I am alive, a million reasons to celebrate life and be at peace with myself. Nothing compares to that feeling. I would stay that way, savoring every drop, commiserating with the heavens, till it withers away. Excitement turns into ecstasy, ecstasy turns into peace, peace turns into anxiety, and anxiety turns into sadness.

After the rain, I cleanse myself with the usual soap and shampoo and let myself dry, clothe again and become nostalgic of my acquiescence with mother nature. I shelter in the safety of my home praying that I would be graced tomorrow once again to do the ceremony of rain-bathing.