And Then the Medicine Arrives

And then the medicine arrives. Just like that. Out of nowhere.

This is how you know it's medicine.

It isn't predetermined. It doesn't follow a script. It isn't something we planned or planted. It arrives like rain on a drought-devastated landscape. It nourishes. It gives. It fills.

The other day, during my outdoor yoga class, we had just settled into Savasana on a beautiful, sunny, unseasonably warm autumn afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky. Or at least there hadn't been one, nor was there any rain predicted.

And then it started to sprinkle.

One little raincloud floated across an otherwise perfectly blue sky. It rained just enough to get everyone wet, for just about the length of Savasana. I quickly worked to cover everyone with a light blanket over smiling faces. We had a good laugh about it afterwards. This is the correct response.

I've been thinking about this ever since.

How medicine sometimes arrives in ways we might miss. Or even judge, depending on our perspective. A little rain during an outdoor yoga class could easily be considered an inconvenience. An interruption. Something gone wrong.

But what if it wasn't?

Of course, not everything that arrives unexpectedly is medicine. That would be far too simple! Discernment is needed here, too.

And just about anything can be medicine, depending on who we are, where we are, and what's happening.

But I'm speaking of a particular kind of medicine.

The medicine of presence.

The medicine of a moment.

The medicine that arrives to remind us to be humble, kind, present, and always grateful.

I wonder how often we miss this kind of medicine because we're so busy looking for something else. Something familiar. Something we've decided we need. Something that looks the way we expect healing to look.

And perhaps the medicine isn't always in the event itself, but in how we meet it.

In our willingness to be interrupted. To notice. To receive.

To allow something unexpected to touch us without immediately needing to name it, explain it, or turn it into something else.

Sometimes the medicine arrives as a little rain on a sunny autumn afternoon.

And sometimes, if we're paying attention, we find ourselves smiling.

Jeneen Piccuirro.

Soul Voyage Studio

Remember Your Nature.