I’m sitting in my front room (or sitting room, or lounge, or whatever you call it in your part of the world!) listening to the sound of rain thundering against my windows. And I love it. Not the going out in it bit. But the Sound of it.
I was having lunch yesterday with a friend when a similar deluge hit and the sound of the rain on the plastic room was deafening! But I loved it.
You see, I grew up knowing the sound of rain on a tin roof to be the sound of Hope, Life and Joy. Rain meant food for the country in which I was raised and, in the desert lands, not a thing to be taken lightly. The echoes of its significance resonate into my life now. Indeed, 15 years later, in cold, wet England, and the Sound is like an echo of Home.
I had a similar experience earlier this week, when I bought some brioche rolls on a whim. The sweet bread doesn’t figure in my diet as a rule (through forgetfulness, I might add, rather than any dietary virtue!) but the smell caressed me as I opened the bag.
It transported me to border crossings where we’d lean out of the window of our cars to buy loaves of the sweet bread to sustain us on whatever long journey we were on. I have resolved to buy brioche more often 😉
A few months ago, I was faced with an old ironing board that was making an unpleasant task (who actually *likes* ironing?) even worse by being ugly and thinly cushioned. I resolved to procrastinate further from the ironing by recovering the board first. My fabric of choice was length of material I’d brought back many years ago from West Africa. I loved this fabric, but hadn’t found a use for it until then.
Now, while ironing isn’t exactly a joy (!), it reminds me of fabric shopping – the overwhelming array of colours and patterns in another world, that act as a backdrop to so many remembrances.
Rain. Bread. Fabric.
For me, like for many TCKs, our ‘other worlds’ can feel increasingly distant over time… and distance renders them more mythological than biographical. By finding ways to ‘join the dots’ of our Then and Nows, in grounded, tangible ways, we can not only better access our memories, but draw them into our current experiences.
In this way, the echo doesn’t fade, but instead resonates with increasing strength and voice…
What precious memories are reactivated in your Now?
What valued experiences from Then can you nurture and encourage in your daily life?
What resources can you employ to help your Song of Self gain strength?
If you would like some support along the way, do get in touch here. I’d love to hear your Story, and support your next chapters.