“April showers bring May flowers.” I remember hearing that saying as a child. Of course, I was most likely to hear it when the April showers were interfering with my playing outside. The homily was, of course, filled with multiple meanings — everything from a message of patience and “good things come to those who wait” to “everything has a reason.”
However, I don’t remember much emphasis being put on the idea that April showers had their own beauty. While it might be nice that they brought May flowers, nice that they melted away the last of the snows of winter (that by April in New England seemed to have lasted forever), the April showers had a meaning, purpose and beauty all of their own.
There is beauty in rain, and those things we often associate with rain, such as loss, sadness or internal contemplation of an exquisitely melancholy nature. A slow down, a reflection, and a crying of tears are not bad things when we put them into perspective.
Unfortunately, we have lost sight of the much-needed value of those things in our current society. We are always hurrying everything. We want sadness, grief and loss to be instantaneous, and then move on as if nothing had happened.
If we don’t move on, if we are sad for more than seven days, that is often the medical criteria for breaking out the prescription pad. Perhaps if we could better deal with our grief, allow ourselves to truly experience and grow from our sadness and losses and allow them to mature us, we wouldn’t have to rush to the pill bottle to separate ourselves from our pains. For you see, it is oftentimes not the one pain that leads to the need for drugs, but the dozens of pains, losses and hurts that we never fully processed, and sometimes were not allowed to process, that sooner or later lead to the falling of the house of cards.
We move into action, addiction, and avoidance of our true feelings because they cannot be neatly filed away within the ninety minutes of the movies we grew up with.
If one does not fully engage in the process, does not experience what the process has to teach them and does not participate or grow in that process, then how can we expect the April showers in our lives to bring us anything but a garden full of weeds?
If you want flowers, you must first allow yourself to experience the showers for real.
Dr. Kevin Ross Emery is an author, psychic, coach, consultant and teacher.