As I watch the rain pour down, my mind begins to run wild, like stray dogs afraid of the rains. I watch a kid slip and stain himself with mud, while another jumps over puddles and enjoys a new game. I see a guy running for shade to protect his phone and files, while another is running to spoil his friend's new jeans.
Then my mind slowly drifts off to those at their balconies and open windows. Some remembering each wound on their scarred hearts and wondering if they could just let it all out like the skies. Some feeling joy of being loved and enjoying every phase of the rain. Then there are some of us, lost and confused. Those who are unsure if they should happy about all that they have or sad for all that they've lost. Life is all about equal proportions, and sometimes you don't know which feeling should consume you.
That's when I realize, that sometimes, it isn't about being happy or being sad. It's just about breathing. It's about being there at that moment and not sulking over the past or worrying about the future. Sometimes, it isn't about seeing whether the glass is half full or half empty. It is about noticing the meniscus separating the two and realizing that somehow that tiny detail is the most beautiful thing about a glass of water.