The Rain

I am sitting writing this from the comfort of the inside, the warmth of a sunny day mocking me  through the window. There is a slight haze gently brushing the leaves and somewhere a willow  tree is shedding their catkin fur, gifting a suspended snow into the breeze.  

My eyes close as I take a deep breath to contemplate my subject – the rain – and on opening  them, dive into the wet depths of memory.  

I am transported to warm summer rain, a smell like no other. It comes so readily, hot salty  blossom earth, I feel sand between my toes and warmth on my shoulders. As I try to hold onto  the feeling, calmed and kissed by the water, the rain evaporates as it hits my memory soil. An  illusive balm and comfort. I remember too, the running for cover, the laughs and giggles, the  thrill of the chase. The inevitable drenching followed by pure joy, a skin tingling feeling in  knowing the wet will soon be dry. This rain is fun and carefree, and somehow seems to bring  together. An ancient well, full of good luck charm. This rain feels part of memory and moment  rather than an everyday, a sort of fairy tale vision that leaves me wondering, was it real? 

Before I go any further, it feels important to confess my love for rain. The smell, the sound, it’s  depth. It feels like a quintessential part of my bones that can’t be fully explained, a sort of  seeping emotion that can be found in unexpected places. It isn’t always welcome, or happy, and  on some days when defences seem futile – it can be absolutely miserable. But, in the most arid  of deserts there always seems to be a mirage of it’s magic.  

When working outside, in all weathers, the rain is an inevitable companion, as is the clothing  that makes it possible. Most days this is without umbrellas and with glasses, which brings some  frustrating consequences – not to mention muddy boots and bedraggled hair. The choices of  how to navigate this can be interesting therapeutic tools. How prepared am I, the  psychotherapist? And how, if at all, should I prepare you, the client? Do we sit in one place,  sheltered, watching or do we walk as if there is no rain? Do we, together, look up and welcome  them, as a character in the session, nature becoming a third in that moment and essential to  our explorations. This dance of co-creation is the basis of building trust and a solid foundation. 

Not all elements of nature will be relevant, conscious, or part of the therapeutic process, but  the rain somehow makes itself known in a way like no other. I suppose then, it is important to  hold in mind those days when the rain feels relentless, when that wet is also cold, perhaps even  icy. The times when despite all your efforts, you end up soaked and wept. When the work of  therapy feels hard and unrelenting. We all have those times, when we are not running from the  rain in joy – but are desperate to get away – to find the dry and warmth. At times the droplets can  feel like huge puddle weights reigning down, forcing us into needed retreat. As though one more  moment will make us forget the existence of summer, and the dark will extinguish the light.  

That paragraph felt heavy like the rain it describes. I want to also offer an alternative experience  of that downpour – one that can shut out the things around and bring us into ourselves. When  you stand in that rain, it can have an amazing effect of dampening external sounds out, creating  a sort of roof under which you can be held. A reverse umbrella that can make space just for you,  for us, to be within. To notice the shift its falling through sound alone, just stand still amongst our feelings and notice and they, like the rain, eventually ebb away.

As I look up from the keys, I notice grey clouds have rolled across the sky and there is a mist of  uncertainty in the air. A slow drizzle begins and an underlying seep of questions floats around  my mind waiting to be brought into being – just out of reach.