Nicole RaymondiComment

Nicole RaymondiComment
        This weekend I packed up all my clothes, drove 7 hours up the oh so interesting interstate 5, and arrived in the Bay Area to start this transition.  My all-embracing welcome to SF has been filled with rain. A lot of heavy, coming down in sheets, torrential kind of rain. Rain that I drove in for hours on Saturday then again yesterday to San Francisco and back because I couldn’t pass up  @sfmoma  on a Sunday (and tacos). So naturally, being the poetic type, this post should be about some sort of parallel between the cleansing of that rain perfectly timed with the new moon and this new chapter in my life.  But I’m going rogue. I’m not a poet I’m a pluviophile. I love the rain. In fact, I thrive in the rain.  All of this water fall combined with all of this driving brought me back to my racing days. At the track, when it would rain, a lot of people wouldn’t even go out for their session. Rain completely changes the game when you’re racing. You lose almost all of your grip, your visibility is decreased, and the margins for error quickly close in.  As the sky would darken and the clouds would move in above though, I could feel my excitement build. To me, rain was the great equalizer. Anyone could learn how to drive fast around a dry track with perfect conditions. But rain, put you to the test. Rain called on everything inside of you to get in the car, head out into the unknown, and trust yourself.  The biggest trick to driving in the rain? You have to find the grip. Stay off the well-worn smooth track lines and feel your way through by staying highly in tune with your vehicle and keeping your head up - visibility wide.  I think it’s the same for weathering the storms of life. Rain challenges us to find footing in places we haven’t before. It pushes us off the well-traveled paths and into newly charted territory. And it gives us the opportunity to come home to our bodies - feel our way through - and realign with the bigger picture.  So maybe a pluviophile is just a fancy word for a poet. Your means of expression being rain instead of words, but the outcome the same. A stronger sense of self.

This weekend I packed up all my clothes, drove 7 hours up the oh so interesting interstate 5, and arrived in the Bay Area to start this transition.

My all-embracing welcome to SF has been filled with rain. A lot of heavy, coming down in sheets, torrential kind of rain. Rain that I drove in for hours on Saturday then again yesterday to San Francisco and back because I couldn’t pass up @sfmoma on a Sunday (and tacos). So naturally, being the poetic type, this post should be about some sort of parallel between the cleansing of that rain perfectly timed with the new moon and this new chapter in my life.

But I’m going rogue. I’m not a poet I’m a pluviophile. I love the rain. In fact, I thrive in the rain.

All of this water fall combined with all of this driving brought me back to my racing days. At the track, when it would rain, a lot of people wouldn’t even go out for their session. Rain completely changes the game when you’re racing. You lose almost all of your grip, your visibility is decreased, and the margins for error quickly close in.

As the sky would darken and the clouds would move in above though, I could feel my excitement build. To me, rain was the great equalizer. Anyone could learn how to drive fast around a dry track with perfect conditions. But rain, put you to the test. Rain called on everything inside of you to get in the car, head out into the unknown, and trust yourself.

The biggest trick to driving in the rain? You have to find the grip. Stay off the well-worn smooth track lines and feel your way through by staying highly in tune with your vehicle and keeping your head up - visibility wide.

I think it’s the same for weathering the storms of life. Rain challenges us to find footing in places we haven’t before. It pushes us off the well-traveled paths and into newly charted territory. And it gives us the opportunity to come home to our bodies - feel our way through - and realign with the bigger picture.

So maybe a pluviophile is just a fancy word for a poet. Your means of expression being rain instead of words, but the outcome the same. A stronger sense of self.

Life by Design was born out of a need for my own self-healing after decades of unresolved illness. It wasn’t until finding the courage to look within that I discovered it was my own belief system holding me back from experiencing a truly thriving life. We all have access to that thriving life. We just need to rediscover our power and ignite the healing-self. Only then can we unapologetically live a life by our own design.