I woke up this morning. Shadows of dreams still lingered in my consciousness. I felt my breath quicken and the blood course through my body. The pressure of my weight was firm against the mattress, as if I was somehow magnetized to my bed. While my eyes opened and focused, the first thought of the day entered my head. I had crossed the undefined zone between sleep and consciousness.

My body slid across the smooth sheets, and the cold tile shocked my feet awake. Just for a moment, I felt Life, the excitement of being, like glimpsing some secret of the universe—the same secret known to someone whose spirit never grows old, and who always has a twinkle in his eye and a knowing smile on his lips.

Outside, rain poured down from the bleak world above. As my face rose defiantly to meet the first cool tears from the sky, I woke again, but not from sleep. The rain penetrated much deeper than my threadbare sweater. Each drop fell into a reservoir of serenity and inner strength, washing me clean of my disappointments, my frustrations, my self-doubt. I splashed in the puddles like a child and danced, trying to catch the drops. But, they evaded my grasp, much like the fleeting moment.