Perspective.

The rainstorms here are to die for. 

Seriously, I'm such a sucker rainstorms.

(Right now, it's thundering outside, the clouds are rolling in, and it's visibly getting darker. I love it.)

The thing is, when it's really raining--like, when it's pouring so hard that you can hardly see your hand in front of your face, and you only have to go outside for two seconds to get good and drenched--that is probably my most absolute favorite time to go running. 

I know, okay? But it is. 

Rainstorms are cleansing, and actually going out in them, allowing the rain to soak me, to trickle down my face and arms and back, invigorates me. I feel refreshed and capable of anything when I'm soaking up the rain. Exercising in the rain heightens those feelings; makes them more concentrated. Running in the rain leaves me euphoric and peaceful. 

If only torrential downpours happened more often.

The last time I ran in the rain, I stopped when the rain did. But just because I stopped running and it stopped raining didn't mean the storm was over. Flashes of intricate lightning danced around the sky, totally distracting me from absolutely anything else going on around me. I ran up to the roof of my school, sat down, and just watched the skies. The lightning show was frequent and breathtaking for about an hour, and then slowly, slowly sputtered out into nothing. I was outside the whole time.

It was beautiful. 

Nature truly has the best fireworks.

Mediocrity with a Dash of Something Else.

Mostly, it's pretty typical for everyone, in any sort of situation they're constantly placed in, to have good days and bad days. There are awesome, energetic, I'm-totally-doing-this-for-the-rest-of-my life kinda days, and then there are those blecky, lethargic, can-I-please-just-curl-up-in-a-ball-and-sleep kinda days.

Today was totally that kind of day. It's probably the combination of it being the first day of Chinese school, and my inability to shake this headache, that made it that way.

Definitely, those kids drove me crazy today. 

But yesterday was totally not that way. Yesterday, they were adorable, eager to learn, affectionate little angels that I never wanted to leave. Let me show you. 

They drew that for me. Isn't that cute? Lately, they've really been into "surprising" me with pictures on the board. They'll kindly ask permission to use the markers on the whiteboard, and then freak out if I glance in their direction mid-creative genius. "Miss RAYNE! Don't SEE THE WHITEBOARD." 

Man, sorry. Sheesh. 

Sneaked up on them for this one, though.

After they were finished, and I gave them the appropriate appreciative response, one of the girls asked me to kneel down near her desk, close my eyes, and give her my hand. I obliged, and I felt her drawing something on the palm of my hand. There were seven little bodies crowded around me, pressing their cheeks against mine, and wrapping their arms around my waist, as my palm was being decorated. When the artistic piece was finished, I was allowed to open my eyes, and saw that "We love you so much!" was written on my palm in sparkly ink. 

Is this what being loved unconditionally feels like? Because I swear, all I do is make mistakes.

But it turns out that they're cool with those, too, actually; and do their best to help out where I fall short. One of my cute little students, knowing how prone to forgetfulness I am, thoughtfully provided me with a note, mentioning all the things I needed to do and bring for class the next day.

These kids, man. I just really like them.