Today I have more to say about a rainy day.
I believe that those who long for solitude, and then make a concerted, consistent, and serious effort to attain it, are called to a spiritual/religious way of living. Examining childhood memories of times alone, helps crystallize this call. As we know, our childhood is not separate from our life today; we are now reaping what was sown.
As a child I was most content playing alone on a rainy day. In fact, playing alone were my happiest times. I didn’t use of God language, but I felt peaceful, free, open, accepted, loving, and whole; all qualities God wants for us. Now in my seventies, I feel the grasp of those same qualities when I walk with God. I am the person God wants me to be when I take extended periods of time alone. That’s why I come to Florence. For that, I am very grateful. And once again, I am very grateful for my mom.
It’s raining here. Hearing the rain this morning while sitting in Santa Trinita activated vivid memories of those rainy days of my childhood, those days called latency before imaginative play becomes tempered by hormones. On such Saturdays or summer days I always knew my mom would give me the entire rainy day to live alone in my world. She never pried or spied; she had deep respect for the individual’s journey and knew that privacy was a necessary ingredient.
A rainy day continues to catapult me back to childhood. Those memories energize the spiritual longing I have now. I have always been walking with God, knowing that rain is serious, rain is profound, and rain is hopeful. I walk and play in it, and then embrace a sunny day.