Many of us can still remember childhood scenes where we were completely captivated by the sights, sounds, smells, and textures of nature. When we allow a child to have experiences that flood the senses, we increase their brain’s capacity to learn and fully appreciate life.

Guest writer Kathleen Lockyer recounts the deep connection with rain that she also happens to share with her youngest daughter and ponders from where that “gift” originated.

The Gift of Rain

 “May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

On my younger daughter’s third birthday, she fell in love with Joni Mitchell’s song “Circle Game.” She pleaded for me to play it over and over, like when children beg to read the same silly story till their parent hides the book because they are so sick of it. That’s how it was with this song for her on that day. But instead of feeling irritated, something about it made me teary all day. Three felt so big. Tears welled up every time I listened to the words:

 “Yesterday a child came out to wonder… and the season’s they go ’round and ’round… you can’t return, you can only look behind from where we came…and go round and round in the circle game.”

My tears were for the sadness within me at the thought that her pure, in-the-moment and unabashed joy for life might fade—that life would change and perhaps dull the child I saw as fully alive. The sadness came from a secret place inside of me that often longed to feel that time again when there is nothing else in the world but you and that caterpillar, or you and that tree or dog or frog or mud puddle. Most of us can remember a moment from our early years when we were in deep communion with something, pure, natural and vital. How long has it been since one of those moments? How often has the return to that place become a complicated puzzle?

“Then the child moved ten times ’round the season…”

She Only Needed the Rain

Many of those fears from that day were allayed as I witnessed my daughter, now almost 11, gracefully and simply, bring me right back to where my soul secretly longs to be. She only needed one thing; something pure, natural and uncomplicated. She only needed the rain.

We live in California, where sometimes we don’t see rain for several months at a time, so when it comes it’s like the feeling of spring after a long, harsh winter. Today, when the clap of thunder came, my daughter ran to the front door, opened it, and exclaimed “Rain! Rain! It’s raining!”

Before I knew what was happening, she had her prized clear umbrella and was sprinting for the yard, barefoot and giggling—just like the child I remembered from seven years ago. Just like the child I was, some forty odd years ago. Every time it rains here in California that is how I feel inside: joyous, alive, grateful.

Learn to create great memories for your kids. Try our Online Parenting Course!

What Allowed Me to Say Yes?

I’ve often wondered how it is I developed that gratitude, that feeling of joyous freedom for the rain. Today, when my daughter danced, twirled, laughed and wandered in the rain I remembered. It was my grandmother. She had allowed me to play in the rain the same way.

I remember her giving me an almost identical clear umbrella which I would take outside and sit under for endless amounts of time, watching the rain drip, splat and roll down the sides of. I remember being barefoot with muddy feet. I remember being wet and feeling wild. I also remember her sitting on her porch; watching, witnessing and celebrating. She witnessed and celebrated my joy. She said yes.

Creating a Life-Long Brain Pattern

When I listen to people here in California complain about the rain I understand now that perhaps they did not have an adult that allowed or fostered that deep, direct and sensorial experience that would have connected them to the rain. They were never given the same chance to develop the brain patterning and bodily recognition that I feel or that now my daughter will feel the rest of her life. Each direct, sensorial, contextual and integrated experience a child or person has, literally expands their neurological foundations and increases their brain’s capacity to learn. It creates more matter, more “surface area”.

The next time it rains, let your child play with abandon, get wet, feel the mud between their toes and instead of saying no, just say yes.

by Kathleen Lockyer

 *****

Kathleen Lockyer is the founder of the Institute of Sensory-Based Learning, established to address the growing disconnect between human development and the natural world, and to create and provide accessible solutions and support for families, children, individuals, and professionals.