Two young men, dressed in black rang my doorbell on this rainy Sunday. One was tall and rain dripped from his blonde hair. He looked tired, the other man… very short. Rain dripped from the brim of his big black hat. He was smiling broadly, with energy enough to carry his partner. He said they were from the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I commended them for their efforts but passed up on their message and brochure. He asked if I knew anyone that could use a message from Jesus. My neighbours….all my neighbours, I said. He repeated what I said, smiled and they left. I watched. They did not go to my neighbours on either side of me.
Lucky for them, for all parties concerned! In that moment, I felt a pang of anger. Funny how feelings can linger, especially anger. They hang on…like a mad dog on one’s trouser leg. They gnaw at you, from the inside out, eating you alive if you don’t pay attention. I could feel the mad dog’s teeth as the young men were walking away. I am grateful for this moment of recognition…this gift from Jesus. It is time for me to let go of this grip, let go and forgive, though not necessarily to forget….all the negativity and angst from my neighbours, for they knew no better…and for my own health and well being.
In that moment of deciding to let go and move on, I recognized how much energy and time I’ve wasted on things not of my own. I’ve always felt responsible for the happiness of others. And in one session, my counselor told me that I was not that powerful. So true! But a lifetime feeling cannot be cast out overnight. I needed repeated moments of recognition and practice to develop new ways of feeling and behaving. Regret is of no use, but being human, I do regret….all that time I could have spent on myself…..I could have, I should have, if only, what if….There! I’ve said it. NOW, I can move on.
So, on a very rainy Sunday, I am moving as never before! Cloudy, rainy days are great for taking photographs. The colours are so deep and bright. The blues and purples of my irises warmed and settled my heart. On this Sunday, I did not notice the greys of the universe…only the colours of Eden in my garden. Rainy Sundays are great for digging in the garden. The soil is moist and soft, easy to sink a pitchfork in. Weeds are easier to pull out, perennials easier to divide.
Rainy Sundays make great days for baking. I am getting better and better at it. My breads taste much better than the bought ones. It makes a huge difference if you put your own heart and hands into the matter. Measuring, mixing, kneading…so grounding, so therapeutic. Baking your own bread is better than Zoloft and Ativan together. I might get a big tummy, but not a rash. I will not break out in a sweat or fall off my deck stairs….more side effects that I have suffered. Baking and breaking bread are good for body and soul.
Rainy Sundays are also good for walks with Sheba….in between raindrops. It’s cooler and we do not doddle so much. You never know when the next big drops will come. The skies are grey and it is Monday. The rain will come again soon. There is a pork roast in the oven. I can smell the goodness cooking….the garlic, rosemary, sage and thyme.