Swimming Through The Flood

Pre-storm.
The air turns thick with moisture and anticipation. The clouds loom ahead and threaten to pour down with intensity and foreboding. As the world outside dims, inside, the lamps are switched on so the light reflects in the window, inhibiting the view out into the uncertainty. One only sees their own reflection looking back, safe and secure in their happy homes.

Rain.
The tires splash on the road and the windshield wipers lull into a false sense of calm while the storm outside still rages. The drops slide down the window and connect into one steady flow that mazes and collects any drops willing to follow. The thunder outside rumbles either in rage or glory, depending on how you look at it. The electric current in the air is almost enough to spark a heart into feeling more alive than ever before. When the lightening cracks, for one moment the world is illuminated with such clarity everything feels too exposed. But then soon it disappears, and the world settles again into dark oblivion.

After the Storm.
The smell still lingers. The wet cement and soggy leaves remind us of what once was. The sun peaks out of it's solitude and reflects the light from the puddles and rushing gutters. A bird chirps, the signal of surrender. Windows open, umbrellas close, and heads peer out to watch and feel the blanket of peace tuck them in safely for the rest of the day.

Some feel the need to hide from the rain, but not me. I feel the need to find it, to dance in it, to revel in the cleansing of the earth and my mind. To me, rain means possibilities.

Desert rain comes far and few. Maybe that's what makes it so memorable. The red dirt turns to mud that slides smooth and thick into the road. The wet Sagebrush is like cologne, spicy and enticing. This Sunday night as I write, it is raining. And I couldn't be happier.

These last two weeks have been full of rain, making me reflect on some of my most treasured moments of surprise and clarity. My top rain memories are laced with lessons and things I will never forget.

•   My Sophomore year in High School, there was a freak storm the day of a football game. My drill team was supposed to perform at half time, but the superintendent came into the dance room as we were getting into our sequin costumes and told us it wasn't safe. My mom, our coach, asked him if we could perform a simpler safer routine. He left it up to us, so of course we marched excitedly onto that field. "LLlleft...Lefffttt..." our shivering captain called. The crowd in the bleachers turned and saw us walking through the pouring rain and broke into applause. With every step our dance shoes would disappear under six inches of water. We were cold and soaking wet but could not contain our smiles. We performed a very imperfect performance. We slipped and pulled others down with us. Rain flew off of our feet with every kick. We hit our end pose and took in the crazy cheers of the crowd. We left that field with ruined shoes, mascara running down our faces, and smelling like swamp monsters, but we held our heads high with dignity. United in dedication and passion for our sport, we weren't going to let a little rain stop us that Friday night.

• I was nine years old, and my hero in life was my sister Cheya. My best friend and I would follow Cheya around and fervently wish we were one of the teenagers. When we were invited to go play in the rain with my sister and her friends, my little fingers could not fasten the buttons to my bright yellow rain poncho fast enough. We tried to prove ourselves to the older kids with some Olympic games on the lawn and extreme bravery against the cold. I was having so much fun but I willed myself to remember not to whine, not even once. The gutter on the side of our house was rushing fast and went all the way out to the middle of the road. I spotted a fish and fumbled and slipped and finally grabbed the slippery gills right before it when down the drain that disappeared under the road. The big kids were so impressed. We had breath holding contests underneath the puddles. I was both really intrigued and really embarrassed when I caught my sister and her boyfriend sneak a kiss in the rain. I had a brilliant idea and went to the garage for a bright green sled we used as a raft to carry us down the flooded road. I was the only one small enough to actually make it work. The big kids were so impressed. I contently leaned back on the front steps of our porch and watched the teenagers laugh and play just like they were the same age as my best friend and I. Maybe being young wasn't so bad after all. Maybe you were never too old to play in the rain.

• My high school sweetheart and our friends made a plan. We were going to drive up to the mountain and spotlight deer ALL night long since that's when they were awake and moved around. We packed up our 4-wheelers, met at 7-11, and headed up Taylor mountain. We blasted music and sang and laughed in a way only carefree high schoolers could. We chose a spot thick in the woods of Roaring Fork and built a beautiful fire that snapped and cracked and mesmerized us with it's dancing orange flames. The Spaghetti-Os we heated in the can over the fire tasted like they were fit for a king. All of a sudden a sheet of rain came pounding down on us, distinguishing our fire and soaking our clothes. We shrieked in surprised and scrambled for cover. We pulled the blue tarp over the top of our 4-wheeler trailer and left the 4-wheelers in rain so we could take their shelter. The rain never let up all night long. We tried to stay awake all night telling scary stories and talking and laughing even though we could barely hear each other over the steady down pour. I snuggled up to my sweetheart thinking, THESE are the moments that make life so great. Around 6 in the morning the weather turned to a steady drizzle. We shivered and crammed into the cab of the truck to blast the heater. My phone beeped from the dash, 12 missed calls, all from my parents! Just then my phone died. I wondered what could be wrong and borrowed my friends phone to call my mom. She answered and relief filled her voice. She thought we were coming home that night and around two or three when we didn't show up she thought maybe we got stuck somewhere or slid off the road in the storm. She and my sweetheart's parents were up all night searching the mountains for us. I hung up and told everybody what had happened. We decided to stall a little bit and look for some big bucks before we went home to face the wrath of our parents. We slowly drove down the mountainside through the rain and stopped at any possible sight of deer. We were scared, but didn't want the adventurous night to end so we drove slowly through the switchbacks and kept the windows down so we could smell the mountain rain. We came home and opened my front door timidly. It's a good thing my parents are angels. They laughed with us and told us we were ridiculous but glad we were safe and had fun. Everyone went to their own homes to face their own parents. I took a hot bath to remove the chill that reached all the way down to my bones. I curled in a quilt for a long nap and smiled as I watched the rain and looked at the misty mountains from my third story window. 

• I was 12 years old, and school was cancelled because of a power outage caused by a huge rainstorm. My mom and I got to spend the day together, an unexpected treat. She took me to Wal-Mart to help her buy groceries and also bought me my two favorite things at the moment; a new book and strawberry lip gloss. The roads were scary to drive on. We swerved and hydroplaned and finally dashed into our home. Mom received call after call asking if we were still holding ballet rehearsal that afternoon. She said to still count on it. During her last call, the phone lines went dead and we lost power at our house too. We ate a feast of all the food in our fridge that would go bad, cottage cheese, milk and graham crackers, peaches, and lunch meat. I cozied myself next to the fireplace and read my new book. I could have stayed there all day. Nevertheless, at 3:30 we got in the car and headed to ballet class. The studio had no windows and was completely pitch black with no electricity. We fumbled and found matches and candles and all the dancers helped set them up around the room. I will never forget the way our shadows danced across the wooden floor, elongated and elegant and slightly spooky. There was no heater, so we danced hard so our bodies were warm with sweat even though our fingers and toes were still cold. Almost all of my dedicated team braved the storm to practice for our upcoming Swan Lake Ballet. At the end of class, the candles burned considerably lower, we took our Grande Reverance` and clapped for each other, and for the art of dance, always a beacon of light and hope when things felt unsafe or unsure. My mom told us we deserved to go frolic in the rain. I pulled on my boots and followed the other dancers outside. We danced, we skipped, we splashed and laughed in the flooded parking lot. We frolicked with happiness and joy. That day taught me that life can take many turns and unexpected twists but if you roll with the punches, you can find true happiness wherever you seek it.

That was the first time I learned to frolic in the rain, but certainly not the last time. Last week I took my own ballet class out into the rain and taught them the same thing. We danced in a giant puddle outside our studio. We laughed and soaked our pink tights and black leotards. We grew closer as a dance company, our hearts pulled together by our love of dance and rain and feeling so free.

As I danced with my students in that freezing cold water I thought about growing up. Will I always be the first one to jump into a freezing puddle? Will I ever become that person that will scowl and wish for sun when it starts to rain? Or will I continue to seek the magic that rain brings? I drove home that night, my car seat soaked and my fingers stiff and stuck around the steering wheel. I walked in to our apartment slopping puddles all over the floor. My husband saw me and laughed at my soaked dance clothes and happy, rejuvenated spirit that only a night like that night could bring. He kissed the top of my naturally curly head and started me a hot bath.

When it rains, it pours. But together, through thick and thin, I know we won't sit idly by waiting for the storm to pass. We will always dance in the rain! It's who we are. When life happens and things are sometimes difficult, and trust me, they will be, I hope that we will never sink in the depths of the water and fear the trials that come as quick as a crack of lightening. I hope we will never turn on the lamp and hide from the storm, but go out and experience it, really live it and take it in. We will have some successes in life, some failures, some sunny days, some stormy. But it isn't the sunny days we remember the most is it? It's the unanticipated deliverance of rain and what we make of it that really defines who we are. I take comfort in the fact that every time life gives us a down pour and thunderous storm, we will practice to tread the water and keep our chin up and smiling while we do so.

Because I know that life will be marked by the number of times we have swam through the flood.