“If you’ve ever finished a rainbow, it will lead you to the ground you stand on.” ~Alan Cohen
There’s nothing more exhilarating than riding a jeep and passing through a chunk of chunks. With each step forward, my friend Angela skillfully piloted the enormous puddles, sending an aquatic glory fountain-like arc over my passenger side window.
This was a joy for me.
It was a welcome reprieve given that it was unraveled in a way that I have never seen the past few years have come. In fact, this watery wonder cruises through the quaint streets of my beloved Beach Island, which I called home, was a rare outing for me.
I’m not saying I’ve locked myself up exactly, but if you’ve found me in the last few months, you might have likened it to a sighting of a unicorn – rare and shock to the system. The rare thing is that I needed something other than my pajamas because I had to leave my house. It’s shocking. Because it meant that somehow they gathered after a morning of ugly weeping.
These days, ugly screams weren’t that often, but they had to get out the door, with careful planning and healthy, aggressive self-talk. Angela felt everything I had experienced and refused to fill the space between us with heartless chatter. She let the air breathe and let our hearts settle into a silence of comfort.
And you don’t know about it? In that silence, a rainbow appeared as we rolled ahead of the flooded road.
It was epic. A perfect curve that stretches across the sky, touched by one cloud. We both took it silently until Angela finally spoke of the ideas we have:
“This should mean bright days are ahead.”
I nodded, hoping for everything in me that she was right. Not only is it hampered by a relentless storm of weeks, but selfish for me. I needed this to mean something. The universe doesn’t put anything so breathtaking on my path if life isn’t trying to change in a meaningful way… right?
At that moment, I wasn’t ready for it, but a small doorway of hope opened in my mind.
Angela was drawn into my driveway and gave me one of the deep, soulful embraces she is known for. And I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
But the relief never came.
The next morning I woke up hoping for transformation. I brushed my teeth, looked in the mirror and waited for my shift. And it hit me. Nothing had changed.
What’s even worse, everything that once shattered me was left as it was, as if trapped in a forgotten pause. My father is gone – before. And instead of the clarity and closure I wanted, I left the uneasy reality that I could never fully repair some life.
The unknown power of grace made them light and warm for the years, months and weeks leading up to our final conversation. The love we shared is a reminder of the imperfect but freedom in both directions. Still, his sudden departure sent shockwaves through my family, changing the fault line in a way I couldn’t control. After a sudden freeze warning, as if the sea turtle was motionless and unmoved, I collapsed inside and began retreating from the outside world.
Then there was a blank slate waiting for my future to be filled, looming above me. My identity was linked to raising my boys, but soon my nest was empty.
There was no roadmap for what came next. I tried to pave a new path by writing and building a mindful, self-simultaneous community, but since my father’s death, that dream and its energy had disappeared.
My reflection met my gaze, uncertain and hesitant. Fifty years have been carved into my skin, traced both laughter and worry, and a strip of silver roots showing the passage of time, but I felt that it was invisible in a seemingly moving world.
Rainbow now? What now?
And beyond sadness, beyond fatigue, there was something else.
anger.
Why does that rainbow dare to me to hope? Did you make me believe that things are going to get better, even in a second? I felt betrayed and betrayed by my willingness to believe in something beyond my suffering.
But as I swirled deep into the groove of despair, something else had been shaped at the edge of my soul. It was so simple, so simple and shaking by my sadness that it stopped me with my truck.
I finally learned the truth about the rainbow.
Rainbows do not exist to change our lives. They have no promises or guarantees. They’re not here to tell us whether things will get better or stay the same.
The sole purpose of the rainbow is to light up what already exists. Do something normal and soak it in colour for a fleeting moment. It will not eliminate the rain, nor will it restore the storm. But it changes our perception. It allows us to see the world and ourselves in a way that we feel temporarily bright.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.
Healing isn’t about waiting for a life to change, it’s about learning to be with life exactly as it is. Maybe it’s about making space for the entire range of our emotions – Graif and wonder, despair and hope, pain and beauty, there’s no need to force one another.
Perhaps the rainbow was never a promise of transformation. Maybe it was simply an invitation to see my life, my sadness, and even myself through another lens.
So instead of cursing the rainbow for not fixing me, I let me teach it to something else.
That I’m still here.
Even in sadness, I can be adored.
Even in uncertainty, wonders can find me.
Even in the most difficult moments, the light does not go out. It refracts and scatters in ways I might not have expected, but I can still see it.
And perhaps, just maybe, hope is not to believe that outsiders will come to save us. Maybe even if we haven’t seen the path ahead yet, hope is simply courage to continue.
So I’ll continue.
It’s not because you know the following:
Not because we believe everything will suddenly fall into place.
But there’s still light in this world. Beautiful, red, multifaceted light, and I want to keep looking for it.
Even in the rain.
Even in the middle.
Even me.
About Diana DeVor
Diana Devaul, MSW is a writer and seeker who believes in the healing power of shared truth. While traveling through her own seasons of uncertainty, she offers honest and caring words to those struggling to find a stable ground. For more information, please visit dianadevaul.com.
