Lessons from a Walk in the Rain
Plus my summer music favs
“When we are established in non-attachment,
the nature and purpose of existence is understood.”―Patanjali
Cherie and I love going for walks. Early morning, midday, after dinner. Anytime, really. Any season, too―which is saying something because, well, Wisconsin winters. If our walk is at the beginning of the day, we find ourselves moving at a more vigorous pace. But when it comes to our evening walks, lately I’ve noticed that they are slower.
We stroll.
Our preferred destinations are usually the lake―Lake Michigan, specifically at Atwater beach, either remaining at the stunning overlook or descending (and eventually, ascending) the hundred or so steps down to the beach. Or the river―the Milwaukee River, which we visit via the hilled Hubbard Park or miles of forested riverside trails.
The other night, however, our evening stroll took us in another direction. As Cherie told me about the big twist in her day in which she helped a woman experiencing a psychotic episode in an auto shop waiting room, we walked to the woods―Downer Woods, on the edge of the local university campus, where there is a short loop trail. It was the site of where I once encountered an owlet of the Great Horned variety (doing a slow-mo impersonation an Exorcist-sytle headspin), and later saw it perched with its mother and sibling high up in a tree.
It was getting dark, even more so as we entered the woods. To the south, not too far in the distance, lightning flashed. “The weather app said it isn’t supposed to rain by us,” I said to Cherie, trying to reassure myself that we wouldn’t get caught in the storm. The feel and scent of the air, however, told another story.
“It reminds me of the night we moved here,” Cherie said, referring to our first night in Milwaukee almost four years earlier (to the day)―a night on which it certainly did rain, and intensely so.
We were soon out of the woods, exiting on the campus side, a slightly longer walk home. Out from under the trees, we could now see dark, heavy clouds approaching from the west. It was quiet too—not just because we were on a university campus in the summertime, but also because it was the calm before the storm. Perhaps as another sign of what was coming, two young bucks crossed in front of us, out for an evening stroll of their own.
For Cherie and I, just like the thick air, the bucks’ appearance was a callback to four years ago. On that first night in our new city, Cherie and I encountered a pair of deer in the middle of our neighborhood. We received that visit as a clear sign of welcome and affirmation―this place was exactly where we were supposed to be. How could we interpret this any other way? After all, the deer was and is mascot of the then-soon-to-be-world-champion basketball team in our new town, the Milwaukee Bucks!
This time around, as we walked across the campus, the pair of deer watched us, took a moment to groom one another, and then, as the sound of sirens swelled in the distance, darted off towards the woods we had just left.
Instantly, I heard the sound of raindrops falling on the leaves of nearby trees. Not drizzly, Seattle rain. But big, warm, plopping drops. Midwest style. Soon I felt them. The rain picked up. Cherie laughed in delight, while it took longer for me to adjust to our new, wetter reality.
We accelerated our pace back to our house before slowing down. Strolling again. Somewhere along the way, we surrendered to the elements. We accepted that we were caught in the rain. Discomfort and resistance became enjoyment.
Back at home, as I changed into dry clothes―and now as I enjoy my hot morning coffee as I write these words in my notebook (before I later decided to share them here on Substack!)―I realize that this simple outing was an epic adventure, filled with countless lessons for me. For all of us, including:
A walk in the woods―especially at dusk―does wonders for the soul.
Let go of rigid attachment to certain outcomes (i.e., no rain) and receive the abundant gifts of each moment (walking in the warm summer rain).
Enjoy the calm. Enjoy the storm. Welcome seasons of rest and quiet. Savor them for they are preparation for the times of activity that follow.
How about you? What are your walks―or strolls―telling you lately?
SUMMER SONGS
Here are some of the artists I’ve been listening to lately…
Would love to know what you’re listening to!
THE WAY HOME
"Heartfelt and honest storytelling that's packed with wisdom. Ben Katt's The Way Home is a powerful guide for those searching for more meaning and connection."
―Scott Shigeoka, author of SEEK: How Curiosity Can Transform Your Life and Change the World