Guest Writer - Can I learn to dance in the rain?

By Angela Pohl

www.angelapohl.wordpress.com

Photo by David Marcu on Unsplash

Annoyed by the noise around me I plug in my headphones. After a long day I am ready to wind down. I choose a relaxing playlist and press play. However, there is so much noise around me that I can’t hear anything. Frustrated, I turn the volume up.

Now, enjoy the relaxing music! I yell at myself.

With a lot of effort I can somewhat make out the melody of the first song.

Now, wind down! I demand myself next.

I close my eyes and try to loosen up the muscles on my face. Instead, I feel my brows furrowing. With an ever so slight sigh I open my eyes again. Of course that didn’t work.

How could I combat noise with more noise? How could I relax by stressing myself out?

I turn off the music. In my current state I can’t find any use in it. Not knowing how to get out of the situation, I wish for it to be over. I imagine stepping out of the train and into the cold dark night, hurrying home, heartlessly throwing together something to eat and then swallowing it down as quickly as possible. Only after all of that I would finally be able to relax. Right?

Wrong.

I shouldn’t wait for the storm to pass. I should learn to dance in the rain.

I take my headphones out and look around me. An elderly woman is reading a book. I can’t make out the title of it but seeing the ever so slight smile on her face I would like to read it, too. A younger couple is talking in English. I don’t particularly pay attention to what they are saying but I enjoy the pleasant surprise of hearing a language that is not Spanish for a change. A man in a suit is tapping his fingers on his knees. The fact that he isn’t listening to music inspires me to create my own fascinating rhythm for the rest of the ride.

Picking out and observing a specific moment in time makes the chaos more bearable.

Feeling better but still tired and hungry I step out of the train. I could either rush home whilst being tired and hungry or take my time whilst being tired and hungry. As tempting as the first option sounds (it implies eating and sleeping sooner) I choose the latter one. I choose not to focus on what lies ahead of me (eating dinner and going to sleep) but rather on the present moment (standing outside a metro station in Madrid and waking home). If I have to walk home either way, I might as well make the best of it, right?

Right.

I start walking slowly and look around me. The trees above me are dancing with the wind. The street lights illuminate my way and sparkle in the little puddles on the sidewalk. It isn’t even that cold. People walk past me in a hurry and I like it. I actually slow down even more.

Slowing down and giving myself time to be present makes the chaos even more bearable.

When I get home I feel even better than before. I take my time to prepare dinner, intentionally not focusing on my growling stomach or about the fact that it is getting late. Eating my dinner I feel cared for.

Even though I already found myself back in a normal headspace, I get ready for a gentle yoga-flow by rolling out my mat and lighting a candle. I know that it usually works wonders and that it sets the base for a good night sleep.

During my practice I hear the houseowner come in. She starts talking to a flatmate, discussing some issues we had during the day (including a broken heater and flooded bedroom floors). It is really late, in fact, too late for a houseowner to come in and discuss issues. I could get stressed out about her being here, get annoyed about the noise disturbing my inner Z or worried about the new storm that is brewing outside. However, I don’t.

Instead, I focus on my breathing and smile.

I have learned to dance in the rain.

- Written and owned by Angela Pohl