I love the rain. We haven't had enough of it this summer. I woke up this morning to the sound of a soft, gentle rain tap tapping against the window and my heart lifted up just a little.
Don't get me wrong, I love the sun. But sunny days often make me feel pressured, unlike rainy days. When it rains, I feel justified sitting inside reading or sewing or just doing nothing. I believe it stems back from my childhood when, if the day was bright and sunny, my mom would nag me to "go outside and play, get some exercise - it's a beautiful day! Why waste it sitting inside reading?" Hah! Since when is reading ever wasting my time, I thought. But during summer vacation from a long stressful school year there were so many days where all I wanted to do was read or be quiet, not go out and play in the hot sun even if it was good for me as my mother believed. I'm still like this.
Rain places no such expectations upon us. Rain gives me permission to stay inside and be quiet if I want to and reflect, not necessarily be DOING something. If it's raining, it's okay to curl up with a quilt and a cup of tea and read a good book.
"Anyone who thinks that sunshine is true happiness has never walked in the rain. . . . " With a dog, I might add.
Life gets busy and hectic for all of us at times. I found a great App for my phone for when I feel like I'm spinning my wheels a little too much and need to slow down a bit and take a breath - Simply Being - a meditation App that you can set for a few minutes or more (up to 20 actually). You can get it for all types of phones or your ipod. One of the options is to relax and listen to nature sounds instead of calming music. I always keep mine set on Rain (of course I do). Just listening to the quiet sounds of rain refreshes my spirit.
It's my birthday month and more often than not, for as long as I can remember, it has rained on my birthday. I like to consider it Nature's special gift to me and have learned to be grateful for it. Slow down, life is good, take a breath, you made it through another year. . . .