The physical sensations of the rain

A light, steady rain fell as I stepped out of my work yesterday.  As I scootered, I took in all the sensations of the experience, the water dripping from my bangs, the chill in my hands as they gripped the handlebar, that fresh, earthy smell, the soft pitter patter of the drops hitting the ground.  More than once I caught myself smiling or laughing out loud as I navigated the streets, sidewalks, and parkway paths of my commute or as I paused at a streetlight.  

And then I noticed that my left shoe seemed to have filled with water while my right foot seemed mostly dry still.  I puzzled over that inconsistency.  I faced the imbalance I felt with curiosity.  When I got home and took off my shoes, indeed my right foot was mostly dry and my left foot sat in a puddle of water and left foot prints everywhere I walked.

I really appreciate how I'm learning to be so much more in tune with me - what sensations I'm physically feeling, how my body is reacting, how I'm emotionally feeling, what pull I'm feeling towards nature, people, etc.  Every moment of life is now an experience.  I suppose that means I'm so much more present.

And I really appreciate how I now have the energy and time to ponder with curiosity things I don't understand.  I don't first have to manage someone else's uncontrolled gut emotions first.  I can just take in the feelings of a wet foot and focus my energy on why it might be wet (and ultimately how to fix it) instead of on how awful it must be to have a wet foot.