Reflections on the rain

So as I was looking at the stories I posted about the rain last week, I realized something: There were two types of people. The kind who cried in the rain, and the kind who danced.

That's the way with life. There are some songs that make one person smile, another person shift uneasily.
Some people get excited over roller coasters. Others cringe.

We need to remember this. A lot of the time we just stare at the people who aren't joining in on what we find enjoyable.

I can give an example of what it's like to be that person.

I can't swim, and I'm terrified of submersion. That might not seem like a big deal, but when you're at camp and all the other kids are jumping into the river or going on the water rides, while you just watch, it hurts. You feel like a baby. But you can't join in. You know that if you do, once you get wet, you'll panic. You'll cause an emergency. You'll only ruin everyone's day. That's what it feels like. You feel useless.

And I think there are two ways the other people can help.

When I was at the water park mentioned before, I started out just watching from the sidelines. Then one of the adults on the trip, the camp doctor, came over to me and asked if I was alright. I quickly explained that I couldn't swim. Then he pointed out a smaller attraction, a shallow rapids ride, and asked if I would like to go with him on that. I said yes. As we climbed the hill, I started getting more and more uncontrollably distraught, to my embarrassment.
But the ride was actually fine. Fun, actually, once I got over my nerves. But the doctor didn't leave me even after that. He took me around the entire park, finding rides that I would be alright with, and sometimes ones which challenged me, but he never once scoffed at me, or acted like he pitied me. He was just there. And that's what we need, when we're in that situation. Someone who is just there, and won't force us into things, but will ask if we're okay, if we want to do these things, and will stay at our side, will show us how to do it, will laugh for us when we're scared (because laughing actually helps people calm down) and silently volunteer to watch over us.

The other option is to join that person in hanging back. Yes, it's a sacrifice, but you can spend that time learning why the person is hanging back, and maybe help them overcome that fear, or just making sure that they know they aren't pathetic or dumb.

We need someone to listen. Someone to let us know that we're okay. In our own ways, we all do. And it's a beautiful thing when it finally happens.