The lights dimmed so dark that at 5 o’clock on a June evening I had to pack up my supplies for the day and head out before the sky opened up. I shut the windows and locked the door in time to hear the sirens start. Still no rain. Maybe I can make it. Unlocking my bike I felt a drip on my shoulder, shit, it started. The sky ripped open and began to fall. I throw on my helmet and move move move. I’ll be home in ten minutes, I won’t be soaked, just damp. I turn the wrong way thinking it’ll be faster. Wrong. I turn around, sirens blasting from every direction, head lights starring from ahead and behind. No one knows where to go.
I nod at another cyclist, she’s given into the rain I think. I still hold on, I’ll just be damp. Pedestrians run from the bus covering their heads with news papers, jackets, whatever they had in their hands, a coffee cup, is he trying to CATCH the rain? I speed back to the right street take cover for a second and hide my phone deeper in my back pack. It needs protection.
I see a man in a business suit with head phones in looking like he’s out for an afternoon stroll, smile on, head bopping to some sort of happy beat. He’s surrendered. I slow down, I realize I’m going to get wet, I am wet. I Surrender. I let lose. I smile. I ride. I let go. I let loose of the protection I thought I needed, dryness isn’t safe anymore. I Surrender.
I Let Go. I let go. I LET GO. Iletgo. ILetGo. ILETGO.
I relished in the moment of complete surrender and tranquility. Sirens were blaring around me, people were scattering like ants, busses created tidal waves at every intersection and people worried about their shoes getting wet. Wet was inevitable. The air was warm, the rain was soft, the sky was dark and stormy and purple and beautiful. The storm took over and I let it.