Rain

I used to hate the rain, especially the monsoon season. When I was a child living in a semi-basement house, the house would flood every monsoon season. The drainage system was poor at that time, so it was particularly severe. Although it wasn't as bad as the scenes in the movie "Parasite," I often found myself mopping up water with towels. Back then, perhaps because I was young, I accepted it as a given. I didn't blame anyone; I just hated the rain.

 

The road to middle school wasn't properly paved. Since the path along the lotus field was faster, most of us would end up with shoes caked in mud whenever it rained. On my way to work, even if I had an umbrella, my pants would still get wet from the driving rain and reckless drivers. Riding a crowded bus with an umbrella was also a struggle.

Now, I no longer have to worry about flooding, muddy shoes, or crowded buses on rainy commutes. At some point, I started to like the rain. The sound of a heavy downpour in the summer now soothes me. Night rain no longer makes me anxious about flooding; instead, it serves as a wonderful lullaby. Watching the rain through the large living room window while sipping coffee brings me great comfort.

 

The rain that flooded my semi-basement room 40 years ago, the rain that muddied my sneakers 30 years ago, hasn't changed. Rain has been falling as it always has for thousands, even millions of years. But I have changed. More precisely, my circumstances have changed, and so has my attitude towards the rain.

 

In the past, instead of blaming the rain for flooding my semi-basement room, I should have made efforts to move out of that basement. When misfortune strikes, instead of blaming the misfortune itself, I should have blamed myself for not being prepared. We must prepare for misfortunes that can come at any time. Blaming the rain was my way of avoiding responsibility for my lack of preparation.

 

Am I still blaming "the rain" for my current reality instead of taking responsibility myself?