Yesterday I dreamed of rain. The air was thick with water, turning my desert home into a living memory of ancient oceans. Clouds were thick on the mountains, covering the rocks and earth in a blanket of gray mist. The rain was steady, undisturbed by wind, falling in sheets. The sound of rain and distant thunder permeated everything–indoors it was felt as much as heard.
We learn to cherish rain in the desert, for we can see it for the gift it is. We welcome its cool kiss, damp on our skin, the air washed clean. We linger beneath the rain drops, breathing in air that is heavy with moisture. We find sanctuary within unexpected storms.
But as suddenly as it began, the dream was over. The clouds began to part and the birds to sing. The light returned, clearer and brighter than before. The air was still heavy, but now it sparkled. The light, at first golden behind gray clouds, softened into tones of pink and purple.
We need rain to clear away the past. We need storms so that in their aftermath we can see the light that surrounds us. Within the half-light of these unexpected storms, we can find love where we never before thought to look, as rain falls all around us and even the wind rests.
It was a brief dream. The hot desert air returned, with only the memory of rainfall left behind. That is why, when the rain comes, we must open to the pleasures of the moment rather than wish them away. For this is the reason we are here: to learn how to accept the beauty that is offered to us, and to learn how to share that beauty with others.