Watching the raindrops fall

It has been a long time since I just sat and watched the raindrops fall, watch as they quietly hurry down the window pane in some unknown race, chased by an unseen foe. As the rain gets heavier, more and more raindrops join this now frenetic race. A would be winner “pipped at the last post” by a single drop lucky enough to land almost at the finish line, but more try to make it, though they will never win the race, they may just beat the one behind them. They seem to me like some strange, albeit damp metaphor for life.

In an age where we always seem to be racing to a destination, wanting things quicker, bigger, better, striving to be perfect, to be better than anyone else or should that be someone else? People to me (and I am including myself in this) are like these raindrops I am watching, some will race ahead, making success look so easy, others will fall behind, but keep going, because they have got to finish the race before someone else right?

And then there are those that just stop.

Stop running, stop racing, they may have just run out of steam, run out of whatever is driving them forward until spurred on by someone or something (in this case being bumped into by another droplet, setting off a chain reaction), I almost liken this to someone being carried along by a crowd on a busy subway platform.

Or maybe, just maybe they are happy just to take a breath, a pause, to enjoy the view. In this seemingly endless race it is easy to miss what is right in front of you.

Case in point, if I had not taken a moment to just stop and listen and not put the tv on this morning I would not have heard the birds singing (life seems to drown them out somehow).

If I had not paused and looked up, I would not have seen the wild rabbit hop passed my window.

Why do we always seem to by hurrying? Racing to our journey’s end. As children we want to be bigger, to be adults and as adults, a part of us will always want to be a kid again, as if now we realise that time is precious, that time when all we had to do was play and to simply be us. But as adults we see this as being some unseen responsibility to everything, to be “all things to all men” and we end up frustrated, full of self loathing for our ineptitude, that we are never enough, not fit enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough, not good enough and we burn out.

I haven’t written my blog since July last year, because writing anything after my poem The Hollow just did not feel good enough, that I too had fallen victim to this vicious cycle that the next thing has to be bigger and better than what went before and because so many of us seem stuck in this cycle anxiety and depression become the norm to us, because we are overwhelmed by it all, that our race becomes harder as our limbs grow tired with the effort of trying to keep up with everyone else.

There is a lot going on for me this year, it is going to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster in a number of ways and I ask myself the question am I strong enough to survive it this time? The answer is I don’t know, but one thing I do know for sure, this life is precious, it is fleeting and rather than racing to journeys end, I am going to take a breath, pause for awhile and just enjoy the view.

To quote one of my favourite sayings “Life is a journey, enjoy the ride”

Until next time, I thought this video was rather apt for today.

M x

#depression #selfhelp #stories #writer #poetry #anxiety