Rain

It's raining. The cool water makes me curl with delight. I wanted to feel cold, washed over with peace, but the rain clung to my feet as a reminder that gratefulness is not a natural profession of my heart. Inside, things are safer, hot tea, light chatter, coffee brewing, pages turning. Outside is motion, people enduring the rain as a means to get where they want to go. No dancing, no twirling, just motion. Movement in the sun is frantic, energetic. Movement right now is driven, purposeful, subdued.

The reflection saves me from looking, hoping that I could find solace in still being noticed. People passing by, pausing to take notice of what I am doing, like I matter to them, like they are concerned for me. Are you happy? Are you enjoying your job? Is there anything I can pray for you about? Dialogue that gives motion to work, movement in mission, connecting souls that give me the opportunity to sacrifice. That's the point I can rest in, whether I feel like I'm being selfless.