Its raining. For those sitting in the stadium waiting for the big game to begin or for my daughter who rode her motorcycle over to join me for lunch, that is not such a good thing. But I dont mind. Rain makes me want to find a good book, fix a cup of tea, and spend the day reading. My daughter called after work yesterday and said the weather on the east coast was grey and wet. I want to go back to my apartment, put on my sweats, and just veg. Maybe read a book or watch a movie. If my friends want to get together we can sit around my place, mess and all.
In a voice that exuded relief, one friend told me that he was scrapping his outdoor to do list and working on quieter, more reflective tasks inside.Rain provides permission to change plans to something we would rather be doing. I am not sure why that is true, but for me, it always has been. Waking up to the staccato sound of rain on the windows or the tin roof over my old study immediately filled my mind with alternatives to the days schedule: Instead of going to work, I could stay home and cook an amazing dinner or bake a batch of cookies. I could write the long overdue letter to my friend in California. I could take a walk if the rain were warm.
The older I get, the less often I follow the subversive rain whispers of abandoning adult responsibilities for spontaneous pursuits. But I am glad the rain hasnt quit making the suggestions, and I am never sorry when I follow its advice.
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