A Beautiful Thing is Never Perfect

Do you remember the first time you saw one of your elementary school teachers out in the community like at the bank or grocery story? Was it a weird feeling of cognitive dissonance because you couldn't really figure out how they could be your teacher five days of the week, but also somehow be a human being too? Have you ever found a typo on a syllabus from a professor that you are pretty sure has an IQ off the charts? How about when someone that you really respect makes a bonehead mistake? Isn't it a lovely moment when you realize people aren't perfect?

That's how I feel about LA when it rains. My experience with rain in LA for the past 3 1/2 years is that it will sprinkle a little overnight and the only way you'll know is that the sidewalk will be wet in the morning and the Bluff will have spectacularly clear views. There have been a few instances of rainy days where students freak out and suddenly everyone has a pair of rubber galoshes with matching umbrellas that they have just been dying to use for this type of occasion and I always chuckle and think to myself "They don't know what a real rainy day feels like!"

This time the rain has been different. It has been consistent and hasn't let up since it started on Friday. It hasn't brought the thunder or lightening that I'm used to (and actually miss from time to time), but it hasn't let up. It hasn't relented. It's like LA is trying to prove to me that it is more than just a sunny, ditzy city full of plastic and false promises. LA is trying to prove that it can be serious and heavy and unrelenting. It reminds me that this city isn't perfect and somehow makes me fall in love with it even more for its lack of perfection than for its 300+ days of sunshine and 70 degree weather. There is something intoxicating about being surprised by the gravitas of this city.

I have really fallen in love with this place and more specifically, my place within this place. This city has become sacred to me and there is something to be learned from this rainy spell. As I was walking outside today in the dark, cold, gloomy, and wet surroundings, I realized that everything looked different. Some things had different shadows attached, some thing were suddenly shiny and bright after a good wash from the rainwater. Most of all, everything seemed fresh and new. For a city that is all about the sun and warmth, there is something to be said for a good moment or two of dark gloominess that ends up as a rebirth of sorts.

I can't help but compare LA to my own personality at times. Everything is happy and sunny and bright 300 days of the year, but then whoa are you taken aback by the gloomy moments that very rarely happen. Usually they happen under the cover of darkness where very few people ever experience them, but what about moments like this where the rain and eventual self-renewal seem to be never-ending? I guess I'll just have to remember how wonderful it is to be surprised by this city and how wonderful it is that sometimes I can still surprise myself.