This past Wednesday I woke up after a wonderful sleep to receive unpleasant news. I rolled out of bed feeling pretty great, and made the error of reading my emails before having coffee.
Life Hack: Don’t do that – have coffee first so you can deal with whatever comes your way.
My stomach lurched after reading this particular bit of news. My body surged with anger and sadness. It was acutely unpleasant, and yet I I tried to see it for what it was – a situation outside of my control. All I could do was choose how I’d react.
Even so, I still had to deal with the unpleasant emotions it caused.
I went straight to the gym. My drug of choice would be to sweat it out on the elliptical. The gym in my building looks out over a park. That day it was rainy. The view was blurred by raindrops splashing against the glass. Still pissed off, I pumped that elliptical like an angry hamster on a wheel, defiant of her caged up emotions and pungent cedar chips – longing for something bigger and better.
But the unexpected thing that brought me peace? Watching raindrops on the window.
For years now, when I hop on an elliptical or treadmill on an “icky weather day” not conducive to running or walking outside, I choose one spot in front of me to fix my gaze. Yogis would call that a “Drishti” or focal point where you rest the eyes and allow the world around that point of focus to go blurry. It creates a sense of peaceful singularity. I usually end up fixated on that one spot, my breath, and my body movement. Sometimes counting the breaths, like a slow and steady meditation.
This past Wednesday, I chose a raindrop rolling down the window to focus on. Suddenly, I was transported back in time to family road trips as a young girl.
I’m an elder millennial, born in 1984, so road trips for this kid were device free. Also, I’d get carsick if I tried to read books (ugh). I had to find different forms of entertainment. When it was a rainy or snowy travel day, I was quietly pleased. This meant I could race raindrops.
If you’ve not heard of this high stakes, extreme sport allow me to explain;
It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s also great if you have a betting constitution. I would choose two raindrops that started in relatively the same spot at the front of the car window and select which one I thought would make it to the far end of the window first, pushed by the force of the car moving forward. Pretty high adrenaline stuff, am I right!?
How many hours were spent watching raindrops dance, quiver and slide along panes of glass to an uncertain, thrilling conclusion? Who knows! (#nerdalert)
As this memory surged back into my consciousness, I found myself racing raindrops once again. Watching them cascade down the gym window, I felt my anger, worries and tension start to wash away. Life became bigger, less trapped in this one moment of uncomfortable betrayal. My mind wandered up into the sky, to the clouds, to the sun hiding behind the clouds in constant, vigilant existence. I remembered a phrase I repeat to myself to regain equilibrium as I watched the condensation drizzle down the window in front of me, “This too shall pass”. Like raindrops dancing down windows in front of our very eyes, this too shall pass.
I recommend taking up the sport of “racing raindrops” when you find yourself caught up in your own life’s worries. It’s a little game, but a powerful one. Like most little things, it will surprise you with its potential for peace.
As we head into the grey, rainy days of fall, if you need me — I’ll be over here, hedging bets on beads of water. Feel free to join. <3
