Under threat of rain

All signs pointed to rain.

With work on a four-day summer schedule I was looking forward to a good long bike ride on Friday. But the newspaper said rain. The weather channel said rain. The computer said rain. My bunions said rain.

My primary weather monitor is the modern miracle of glass. I looked out the window and saw no rain. I saw squirrels falling all over themselves scrambling for access to the bird feeder; and I saw rabbits nibbling at the herb garden, but I saw no rain.

I waited and debated. I pondered and wondered. Should I ride and risk a soaking, or stay home and kill two hours wishing I’d gone?

Then I remembered: hey, rain only affects a bike’s handling, braking, traction and visibility, so I thought even if it rains, what could be the harm? I’m not going to melt. So off I went.

I enjoyed a great ride and stayed mostly dry. By the time it rained a little on me, I was close to home and the rain felt refreshing.

Of course, I was glad I took the chance. I stayed within a radius fairly close to home and had my phone with me in a plastic bag in case of a hard storm. So rain posed little risk, actually.

Do you live under threat of rain? Are you waiting for the next step, wondering if you should go back to school, change jobs, ask that girl out, try something new? You’d like to and if you were honest, you’d realize you’re killing a lot of time waiting for the answer to fall from the sky like summer hail.

People around you are the weather report, warning you, urging you to buy bread and milk and be on the road only if absolutely necessary.

You’re afraid failure might soak you so instead of anticipating success or even working as hard as you should at whatever you’re doing now, you fall into weather report mode; listening to everyone else; paralyzed by opinion; rotting by option.

You can lose a lot of sunny summer days that way.

What’s the worst that could happen? Do you risk failure? Yes. But failure is just your first step to your next starting point. Don’t let the threat of rain keep you from trying.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s