Thunder, Lighting, and Rain Storms
The following is an unfinished small section from one of my chapters in my book "Naked Comes the Bastard"
Rain and stormy weather always calms me and gives me a feeling of safety. I can feel a sense of love grow allover myself, yet, it is not directed at anything in particular; it just gowns and fills me until I am clean of negative thoughts.
I close my eyes and go within. I ask myself or whoever is that exists on the other side of light to answer me: Where is the root of this feeling? Where does this beautiful association come from? Show me some pictures!
Slowly pictures begin to appear in the inner screen.
These are not just images somewhere out there, and I am not just an observer either. It is a multi-sensory experience comprised of images, feelings, sounds, odors, sometimes even tastes, and something else that escapes my grasp. Maybe it is the synergetic effect of all the components of all these memories. Or maybe it is the rebirth of the being or spirit that existed at the time of the experience still alive in that envelop of time-space.
It is raining now as I write these words. I continue to journey into memories so long forgotten. A collage of imagery and sensations fills me with the essence of being in the state of peace, grace, and love. I want to reach out, or better, expand myself to engulf the whole universe inside of me.
I slowly become that collage. And gradually I come to understand why I feel the way I do when it rains, and why sometimes I feel in a certain way when it stops. I really do understand now why, and even better when the forces of the universe created this gift just for me.
Parts of the collage are blurred while others are very clear, some rich in color, some are pale monochromes, and some yet are simply pure black-and-white images. Each component has its own sensory arrangement and together they create the very spectrum of feelings that I experience during a rain storm.
I feel this need to just scream out of the top of my lungs: “I love You'' without really knowing who that “You'' actually is. But if I insist upon myself I can say that this impersonal “You” is everything that constitutes the total sum of my existence. “That” is actually me. Is life, is the sum of all of personalities that I have been throughout my whole life, is the joy of being alive now, it is the privilege of loving all my friends, and my family. The appreciation for every moment of awe that so many experiences have repeatedly given me, all my laughter, --, all the tears, and… yes... Even all my foes and pains are all included in my gift – received and given -- of love.
The deepest root theme of this complex immense collage is my father. He is in every piece of this montage. Either visually, audibly, olfactory, or just off to the side, at the very edges of my peripheral sight. As I dive deeper into the memories of childhood reflected in the imagery, the sense of “now” transfers itself from my study to my early years, like in a slow dissolve in a big movie screen. Only the sound of the rain remains constant in both worlds, making the transition more natural.
The rain became the bridge through which I returned home to my childhood. There I am with my dad. I feel him holding me, saying things to me that makes magic grow in my heart. The sound of his voice reverberates through my little body as he holds me firmly close to his chest. I can hear and feel his words in my mind and body. I know beyond the shade of a doubt that I am totally safe in my dad's arms.
We stand by the window looking out into the houses and trees while the rain continues to play its hypnotic drumming rhythm of drops on the window panes. In another collage bit is night time and I am truly terrified of the storm. Our city condo is in the third floor. Rain water is coming through the bottom of the balcony doors. To me it meant that there was a flood and the water was up to our floor and we were all going to drown along with the whole city.
Again the same voice, the same loving, patient, and pleasant sound/vibration would totally embrace me as I stay held in his arms. He shows me that it is OK; it is just some water drops in the balcony. Down below the street lights, the cars, and everything else begins to return from my imaginary mega food. Slowly the terror abates and calmness fills the temporary void left by the gone fears. In this other image, happening some years later, I see my mother moving into the deeper part of the house to hide herself, while dad and l are going to a door on the balcony to open it to hear and see the on-coming storm coming.
We would just wait to see the next lightning bolt, then we both would count out loud the number of seconds until the thunder could be heard, we would then multiply that number by the number of meters that sound travels per second and come up with a good estimation of how far in the distance the lightning was from us.
When the count would drop down to about two or tree seconds, we knew that we were about to be hit with the heavier part of the storm. We would hide in the covered corner of the balcony and keep our eyes open to see the magic of lighting passing by with its majestic power of thunder and the beauty of its lightning shapes. Wow! It was so cool. The very majestic display of nature’s awesome power made my sense of safety even more prominent by contrast between the threatening power of the storm and the protective shelter in my dad’s arms.
The collage’s pieces go on telling of stories related to thunder adventures triggered by my unending string of questions like; “what causes a storm?” or: “what is lightning made of?” or: what holds all that water up in the sky and why does it fall sometimes? Or” how does it get there in the first place and where does it come from?” On and on we would go from one question to the next. The results were stories about how there were different explanations depending on the times in history and the locations on Earth.
Thor, Ben Franklin, Tesla, Marconi, and so on depending on the direction of my questions and the nature of his responses. Science, mythology, religion, and philosophy were common subjects for fascination stories about humanity, the planet, and the whole universe!
My father hardly ever gave my answers however; he gave me responses which were sometimes questions to bring me into the scientific process of analysis. Then we would argue points and keep ongoing until I would arrive at conclusions that l could have been told in the first place by him anyway in the form of an answer right upfront. However, in this way I was a participant in the adventure of discovery, thinking, wandering, and learning right from the world around me.
A stormy afternoon was the background for a stage of special treats that brought everything into the play of life. My father was the script writer and director and I was the unsuspected producer.
Where does rain come from? how does it form? and where does it go, would lead to adventures around the planet and the understanding of hydrosphere, and then was the right time to learn about atmosphere, lithosphere, and biosphere. These stories held secrets which were hidden in words like hydrosphere, for instance, why was that word the proper one to describe the water portion of the Earth including all its forms: gas, liquid, and solid?
It was time to learn language and the roots of Latin and Greek. Then of course we had rain, rivers, lakes, oceans, clouds, and more rain – A Cycle!!!!!!
The stories went on and on about the wind, floods, agriculture, seasons, and this of course would fall into the door of astronomy. Why do we have seasons?
This type of relationship lasted throughout all my youth until into my teens.
From the smallest part of an atom to the Milky-Way and beyond, from language to art, from archeology to math, geography to politics, religion, theosophy, and from there to philosophy, I was treated to adventures in knowledge.
I learned from my dad that in one single drop of rain we could see the whole universe if we were willing to observe, learn, and share. From this I taught myself that from a single moment's stare into my dad's eyes, l could feel all the love in the universe.
…And that is why when it rains I feel the way I do.