A recent post about running barefoot got me thinking about my sense of freedom. My take on the post was that it was a wish to recapture the feeling of abandonment that we experienced as a child. For me it was puddle-stomping. Mr. Kelly was one of my idols. Actually I had quite a crush on him. He had all the qualities I thought I wanted in a man when I was 11 years old. He had a warm laugh, twinkling eyes and he danced in the rain.
As an adult I have, on certain occasions, allowed myself to let go and dance in the rain (alcohol was involved).

It rained today. I ran through the rain just like everyone around me. All the while a voice inside was whispering �stop for a moment, you need to dance�. I didn�t heed the voice. Like a child placing their hands over their ears and humming I forced myself not to hear the voice. There is something wrong with a grown person running around in the rain kicking and splashing. It is insane and I for one don�t have a lot of leeway in that department, still I feel the pull.

Except for the last month in CA there wasn�t much rain. What rain there was seem pitiful in comparison to even one day, hell, one hour of one day here. I sat out on the porch and watched the water splash the leaves and mix with the dirt running brown into the parking lot. I was jealous of the trees who were allowed to stand in the shower and wiggle their roots on the soft, squishy mud.

I miss the time when seeing me dash around in the rain would elicit laughter instead of concern.

In this very small town I saw a girl with hair dyed black and red, black clothes with lace and boa attached and all I could think is how much I wish I had been braver as a child. So fearful of what people would think of me I conformed and was miserable for it. I tell myself if I were young today I would wear black and dye my hair red or purple. Perhaps I would sport a Mohawk, as someone I very much admire once did. Anything but conform. I have learned to despise my past conformity.

Why then, you ask, why not dance in the rain? If you are braver than why do you restrain yourself.

I don�t conform because of fear anymore; I conform because I understand that it is the path of least resistance. When any path is made more treacherous by the limitations of my chemistry conformity protects me from the sharp angles that can cut me deeper than most. I don�t dance in the rain because the adult in me knows the consequences to that action. Wild abandon is just that, abandoning reason and logic for emotional release. I am afraid it would be no better for me than the momentary relief of a drunken stupor or temper tantrum albeit a little easier to clean up after I suspect.

I wonder if there is a way to have my cake and eat it. Maybe later in the summer when the warm rains come I can dance in the rain without causing concern. Until then I will try and satisfy myself with the sound of the rain on the roof over my head.

I will lie in bed and dream of dancing in the rain. Maybe I will meet my friend there running barefoot into the night.

Good night

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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