The sound of the rain on the roof and windows is one of the most soothing sounds. Outside, the weather is wicked, and I love how the trees bend and sway, as if they are dancing with each other. Last night, the storm raged so fiercely the boughs from trees snapped and fell, pine cones pelted the house, and the dogs went a little mad.
People complain about the rain. The miserable weather. But I love it. I like it when Mother Nature makes a point of reminding us how powerful she is. I feel small and fragile in this sort of weather. It dwarfs me. And as I drove home this evening and the ocean crashed on the left side of the road and my windshield wipers worked overtime to keep up with the sheets of rain, I felt at peace and insignificant.
And that's my word for today: Insignificant
When I tell people I feel insignificant, they take it as a bad thing. Baffling to me, especially because it is something that quells the rather defeating idea that I have to be something, or make a difference. In reality, most people don't make an impression on the world. We are lucky if we make an impression on a handful of individuals, to think we are going to do it on a global scale seems a bit egotistical.
So, what's so comforting about insignificance? It isn't being small, unnoticeable, or knowing your life isn't really even a blip on the radar. That no matter what you do, it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters. The reassurance comes from knowing there is something bigger than you at work. Now, I know that sounds like I am speaking of God, and if that resonates with you, then take from it that. But it is more than God and faith. It is the Earth. The wondrous nature of beings. Animals. Trees. Rain. Mountains. Rivers. Oceans. Space. Time. Existence.
There is a bigger picture.
It's when you stand on the edge of the cliff and stare into the distance, seeing how the ocean meets the sky and there is this moment of 'wow'. Where you take a deep breath, your stomach flips, and for a split second, you are nothing but a glimmer in a sparkling moment of time. That swell of emotion and overwhelming knowledge that you are not alone, you will never be alone, and that the simple act of being alone is a figment of an overactive imagination.
That's what insignificance feels like to me. Rainstorms remind me of this - as does the limitless depth of the ocean and ever expanding universe. Then there is the calm after the storm that reminds you everything will be okay. Eventually. And that we are the universe and the universe is us.