“For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Poet’s Tale

For much of my adult life I believe I searched for ways in which to control my world. I have been demanding in the classroom, strict as a parent, and uber-logical as a spouse.

None of those approaches have worked well for me. At no point, I suspect, was I ever in control.

Dumped, rejected, and otherwise isolated, I realize that I cannot control much. The more I explore that notion and relinquish to my powerlessness, the more at peace I am.

I’ve let go of so much, there’s not much remaining to even attempt to control even if I wanted to.

When it’s raining, let it rain.

Haters gonna hate.

Nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile.

And I am smiling so much these days. There’s no reason not to. It is something I can actually control. Doesn’t that pair with the advice of we can’t control what happens, but we can control our reaction to it?

I got to hold Coby the other day. I still have that loving moment with me.

Hell, I don’t even need a brolly . . . bask in the rain. Permagrin planted.

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