How To Stay Young
A Story of Running in the Rain
Typically, as clouds build and start to threaten rainfall, I move to a place where I can keep warm and dry.
but when did this all change?
I remember being that young kid that LOVED being out in the rain. But not just being out in the rain, really being in it!Like in puddles, pools, climbing through trees, skidding on the grass, splashing, dancing, playing, playing, playing.
For some reason, somewhere along the way I forgot just how much I enjoyed it.
How I Remembered
During one of the epic downpours seen throughout Guatemala during the rainy season months I was caught in the mother of all downpours that can only happen in a tropical climate. It was the kind of downpour that feels more like buckets of rain instead of raindrops.
When they say ‘rainy’ season, they’re really not kidding. It doesn’t just rain, it pours!
Apart from all the rain that falls it’s actually one of my most favourite times to be in the country as it’s one of the most quiet, tranquil and peaceful times with many of the tourists leaving for warming climes and the locals being far more open to connect.
On one of those stormy days I was reminded of just how much I loved being out in the rain, by no choice of my own.
There was really not much time to make a decision about which dry place was best to hide away in as the clouds broke hard and fast and dumped all of their water down in bucket loads before any thought of mine was quick enough to think a solution through.
As soon as it started to rain I immediately started running for cover. I had still forgotten just how much fun it was!
I was a long way from home so I was running pretty fast. I was running under shop shelters, jumping back out into the street to run down the web of alley ways that lead to my own little house around the lake, ducking and diving to find the few and far between dry spots.
After a few moments though I was soaked through so the need to stay dry had gone and was replaced by the feeling of joy. Something I had long forgotten.
It was like my inner child had remembered from all those years before. I was transformed from the slightly disgruntled and grumpy adult not wanting to get wet to the 6 year old kid jumping and splashing, dancing and skidding through puddles again…
…and I couldn’t get enough!
It was during this time of running and splashing and being soaked through that I ran past a shop of people all huddled inside trying to keep warm.
We all laughed at each other but for completely different reasons.
They laughed at me, barefoot, dripping wet and caught in the mother of all rainstorms that raged on.
I laughed at their need to stay dry whilst squeezed inside so tightly that it seemed a little silly, if not uncomfortable.
They laughed at my misfortune of being stuck out in the rain. I laughed at theirs for not being so.
We nodded to each other, laughed and smiled, joked and poked and appreciated the seeing of each other before I skipped on through more puddles while they remained inside.
A few steps on however I started to feel a little pang of envy at seeing them dry, however joyful I was, and so now I wanted to pause and experience what they were experiencing.
I quickly ducked into a little doorway a few doors down to hide away and get out of the rain but just as I did a man came jumping, splashing and skipping right past me who was having the best of times as water swirled all around him.
He laughed at me huddled under cover while I laughed at his playfulness.
As soon as I saw the irony of it all my inner child pushed me right back into the rain where once again I skipped and jumped and splashed my way through the streets, dancing, playing and laughing.
This might sound crazy but that run is one of my most fondest memories of the last 10 years of travelling that I’ve done. However much a trip can be thought through, planned and organised, these unplanned, joyful moments are simply magical moments that remind of us to stay young, stay open and play.
They return us to a time where playing is all we did.
Moving On
Soon after this experience in Guatemala, I travelled down to Nicaragua to sit my first Vipassana. Before the course started, I booked myself into a hostel to spend the night and relax.
A young couple sat down beside me for dinner and we began talking about our lives that can so often happen while being on the road.
During the course of our meal the woman began telling her story to me and it’s one I’ve never forgotten. Maybe because it’s how I felt a few days before or maybe it’s because it reminds me how precious a simple rain cloud can be.
She told of how when she was younger her mood would dramatically change whenever it rained. She would become angry at the rain, frustrated at being inside and moody until it had passed. She said it was even worse if she was ever caught in the rain. Then all hell would break loose. Those were her worse days!
Then, one day, as she rode her motorbike home a car came crashing into her and sent her flying over her handle bars and right on to the road ahead. During the impact she heard her back break and thought it was the beginning of the end.
She didn’t remember what happened next so the rest of the story continues with her in hospital.
She woke up looking out of the window in numbing pain and saw that it was raining outside. The trickling raindrops on the window pane gave it away.
She had the sudden urge to want to be outside, to feel the rain tickling her skin, to turn her head skybound, tongue out and to drink the falling rain again and again and again. She wanted nothing more than to be outside, feeling the strength of her body in the middle of the world.
She wanted nothing less than how she was feeling being stuck in her hospital bed with a broken back, unable to move.
It was then that the sudden phenomenon of water falling from the sky felt like the most awe-inspiring wonder that it is, but unlike all the other times that she could have enjoyed it, this time she couldn’t do anything about it.
From that day on she promised herself that once she recovered, if it was ever raining again she would run outside, throw her arms to the sky and drink up the rain as it fell on her skin.
She promised herself that she would never forget again.
So, after 4 months of recovery, thats exactly what she did.
It took her 6 months to fully recover in total. It took her 5 minutes to share her story.
I imagine this story will stay with me for many years to come.
These two memories come as the rain falls here in Cape Town and I am once again reminded to let my inner child win as I run outside, throw my arms up to the sky, roll around in the dirt, splash in the puddles and laugh at how beautifully silly it all is.
Would you like to be silly with me?