Small drops of rain. You can’t even see them, but you feel them. And the automatic reaction is to consider the day as if it never was, and you start considering: how can I influence tomorrow with my hopes, prayers, weather forecasts?
It’s funny to realize that on a grey day like this I tend to push myself more, as if I feel somehow guilty for the nature’s decision not to bother to sparkle. So I tend to dress colorfully and plan lots of things to do, for no reason, but just because it’s a grey day.
A two-hundred years church and a gathering of people, many of them coming to live in Donegal from very far away places such as New Zeeland, Fiji Island and Australia. All looking for a better place to express that hidden joy, dormant in each of us. A place where you don't want to feel guilty for being you, free. A combination of poems, songs, fiddle music, prayer and hand shakes, hidden away from the rain outside.
I remember very well one phrase this pagan priest used talking about keeping up with our faith even when the joy is hidden behind some misfortune. Up until now I had contemplated always a duality like: joy – non joy, light- absence of light. I never thought of joy under a visible and invisible state, happiness overt and hidden.
It was in front of me all along – yesterday a sunny day, with the sun visible to all of us and today a rainy, cloudy day, with the sun hidden behind the clouds. Or just inside us. It does not mean the sun does not exist today, it’s just hidden.
How can I convince myself about everything around me following the same principle?
How do we find the love that is hiding inside us when we think we have lost hope forever? Is there a hidden meaning to the definition of humanity?
Are we just the places where God is hiding when it’s raining in heaven?