It’s raining here. I’m not sure what the weather will be like in a few weeks, but it’s been raining quite often this summer. I’m almost certain it’ll probably rain again when this publishes for my Freedom Friday post.
Rain makes me nostalgic. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think about the bad stuff that’s happened in the past. I think about how things used to be, what my life was like at particular points in time. I think everyone goes through these self-reflective moods where we ponder on the wins and losses, the births and deaths, the joy and pain. In some respect, there’s that temptation to want to go back to those times to do things over in an effort to fix that of which we made a mess.
I understand that. I do. I think it’s a natural process in our makeup as humans that as we age, the inevitable reality reveals itself that we’re only on this earth for a certain time and we should make the most of what we’re given.
Maybe that last part didn’t make much sense. I don’t know. Maybe I’m talking gibberish again.
When I look back, I measure my life’s journey by the movies I’ve watched, the music I’ve listened to, and the people I’ve met. Whenever I think of having watched Titanic in the theater in 1998, I remember how I had long hair, a bit of an attitude, and I wasn’t about to let anyone tell me what I will do, should do, or have to do. At the same time, I remember this magical time when a spotlight shined on Celtic music. Since my wife is from Nova Scotia, I felt rather proud too that it was Ireland’s time.
The little things also are what get me. I’ll be standing in line at the grocery store and an Eighties song would play in the background shooting me back to my teens when I had my whole life ahead of me with no cares in the world except maybe not having a date for Friday night and the homework assignment due on Monday.
What else was there? I’m certain it was not that acne blowout three minutes before going on stage for my student council acceptance speech.
During these summer months, I have a very strange ritual. It’s a strange ritual because I don’t think anyone else does this. Maybe they do, but I haven’t found anyone who does. If you’re one of those people, let me know. We can be strange together. When it rains, I walk outside in my bare feet and shorts, sit under the front canopy to my house and stretch my legs. I allow the water to pour on my feet. The more powerful the storm, the happier I get. And if lightening should crack in the sky, I’m in my element, grinning from ear to ear.
Didn’t I say it was a strange ritual? I’m not sure why something like a storm would bring such happiness. Maybe it goes with the nostalgia I feel in the rain.
Or maybe, I’m strange. Either way, I’m learning something new every day.
RANGER MARTIN AND THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, on sale October 22.
Do you ever get nostalgic? What is it that you think about?