"A Rainy Day at Spirit Lake" (Image & Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
"Rain showers my spirit and waters my soul."
~Emily Decens
This morning I awoke to gray light.
Before my eyes fully opened, before the day had gathered itself together, the first sounds that stirred me—and stirred my imagination—were the gentle patter of rain and the cheerful song of a Jenny wren somewhere beyond my window.
Then came another familiar sound: the quiet gurgle of the coffee maker brewing the first pot of the day.
Soon I was sitting at my desk, hands wrapped around a warm mug, watching a cool June rain fall across the yard. Tiny droplets landed in the birdbath, creating expanding circles upon the water. One ring became another, then another, until the surface seemed alive with ripples.
Soft lamplight filled the wee cottage. Music drifted gently through the room.
And into that quiet moment came a simple thought.
I am at peace.
Mid-June often arrives carrying the full energy of summer. The gardens are growing rapidly. The days are long. The world seems to move faster, urging us to keep pace with it. Yet a rainy morning interrupts that momentum in the most welcome way.
The gray light softens the landscape.
Colors become muted and gentle. The air grows cool and fragrant. The scent of rain-soaked earth rises from the ground, that ancient perfume we call petrichor. The earth drinks deeply. The leaves glisten. The birds continue their songs between showers.
Everything slows.
And perhaps that is one of the hidden gifts of rain.
Rain invites us inward.
Its steady rhythm becomes nature's own meditation, a quiet white noise that softens anxious thoughts and encourages reflection. It reminds us that not every day is meant for rushing. Some days are meant for listening. Some days are meant for noticing.
Some days are meant simply for being.
As I sat with my coffee, I found myself reflecting on two remarkably powerful words:
I am.
Whatever follows those words has a way of shaping our reality.
I am tired.
I am overwhelmed.
I am worried.
These statements settle into our minds and often become the lens through which we experience our days.
But so do other words.
I am capable.
I am grateful.
I am hopeful.
I am at peace.
Perhaps that is why these two simple words carry such power. They are declarations not only of who we believe ourselves to be, but of who we are becoming.
This morning, as rain tapped softly against the windows, I thought of something Wayne Dyer once wrote:
"Listen to your music, and do what you have to do to feel whole, to feel complete and to feel as if you are fulfilling your destiny. You'll never be at peace if you don't get that music out and let it play. Let the world know why you are here and do it with passion. You'll find your passion in what inspires you the most."
Each of us carries a unique music within.
For some it may be expressed through art. For others, through kindness, teaching, gardening, caregiving, writing, friendship, or simply the quiet way they move through the world. Whatever form it takes, peace often arrives when we stop resisting that inner music and allow it to be heard.
Perhaps that is why this rainy morning feels so meaningful.
Not because anything extraordinary has happened.
Not because every problem has been solved.
But because for a few precious moments, sitting with a mug of coffee while rain falls beyond the window, I am reminded that peace is not something waiting for us somewhere in the future.
It is something available right here.
Right now.
In the sound of a wren singing.
In the fragrance of rain.
In the glow of a lamp.
In the music playing softly through a room.
In the simple awareness that this day—this ordinary, beautiful day—is enough.
My CJ coffee mug is ready for a refill.
The rain continues to fall.
And so this lovely June day begins.
May we carry that same peace beyond this morning and into the hours ahead. May we pause long enough to hear our own inner music. May we allow the rain to wash away what no longer serves us and nourish what helps us grow.
And when we speak the words I am, may they be words that lead us toward wholeness, gratitude, and grace.
Today, and all days,
may we be at peace.
~Wylddane
~Emily Decens
This morning I awoke to gray light.
Before my eyes fully opened, before the day had gathered itself together, the first sounds that stirred me—and stirred my imagination—were the gentle patter of rain and the cheerful song of a Jenny wren somewhere beyond my window.
Then came another familiar sound: the quiet gurgle of the coffee maker brewing the first pot of the day.
Soon I was sitting at my desk, hands wrapped around a warm mug, watching a cool June rain fall across the yard. Tiny droplets landed in the birdbath, creating expanding circles upon the water. One ring became another, then another, until the surface seemed alive with ripples.
Soft lamplight filled the wee cottage. Music drifted gently through the room.
And into that quiet moment came a simple thought.
I am at peace.
Mid-June often arrives carrying the full energy of summer. The gardens are growing rapidly. The days are long. The world seems to move faster, urging us to keep pace with it. Yet a rainy morning interrupts that momentum in the most welcome way.
The gray light softens the landscape.
Colors become muted and gentle. The air grows cool and fragrant. The scent of rain-soaked earth rises from the ground, that ancient perfume we call petrichor. The earth drinks deeply. The leaves glisten. The birds continue their songs between showers.
Everything slows.
And perhaps that is one of the hidden gifts of rain.
Rain invites us inward.
Its steady rhythm becomes nature's own meditation, a quiet white noise that softens anxious thoughts and encourages reflection. It reminds us that not every day is meant for rushing. Some days are meant for listening. Some days are meant for noticing.
Some days are meant simply for being.
As I sat with my coffee, I found myself reflecting on two remarkably powerful words:
I am.
Whatever follows those words has a way of shaping our reality.
I am tired.
I am overwhelmed.
I am worried.
These statements settle into our minds and often become the lens through which we experience our days.
But so do other words.
I am capable.
I am grateful.
I am hopeful.
I am at peace.
Perhaps that is why these two simple words carry such power. They are declarations not only of who we believe ourselves to be, but of who we are becoming.
This morning, as rain tapped softly against the windows, I thought of something Wayne Dyer once wrote:
"Listen to your music, and do what you have to do to feel whole, to feel complete and to feel as if you are fulfilling your destiny. You'll never be at peace if you don't get that music out and let it play. Let the world know why you are here and do it with passion. You'll find your passion in what inspires you the most."
Each of us carries a unique music within.
For some it may be expressed through art. For others, through kindness, teaching, gardening, caregiving, writing, friendship, or simply the quiet way they move through the world. Whatever form it takes, peace often arrives when we stop resisting that inner music and allow it to be heard.
Perhaps that is why this rainy morning feels so meaningful.
Not because anything extraordinary has happened.
Not because every problem has been solved.
But because for a few precious moments, sitting with a mug of coffee while rain falls beyond the window, I am reminded that peace is not something waiting for us somewhere in the future.
It is something available right here.
Right now.
In the sound of a wren singing.
In the fragrance of rain.
In the glow of a lamp.
In the music playing softly through a room.
In the simple awareness that this day—this ordinary, beautiful day—is enough.
My CJ coffee mug is ready for a refill.
The rain continues to fall.
And so this lovely June day begins.
May we carry that same peace beyond this morning and into the hours ahead. May we pause long enough to hear our own inner music. May we allow the rain to wash away what no longer serves us and nourish what helps us grow.
And when we speak the words I am, may they be words that lead us toward wholeness, gratitude, and grace.
Today, and all days,
may we be at peace.
~Wylddane
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