Last Tuesday I woke up feeling exhausted as I wrestled with the endless stream of thoughts floating through my mind; everything I had to do, everything I wanted to do, and everything I felt I should do. It was another day, in another week, with another blog post to write, and something about the consistency of it all started to exhaust every fibre of my being.
As I came down the stairs and opened the blinds, I found a rich, dark grey, cloudy sky staring back at me – the soft pitter-pattering sounds of raindrops dancing gently into my ears. I immediately felt a sense of relief.
I turned on a couple of lights to warm the room and aimlessly puttered around with the kids in our pyjamas for the next couple of hours, without an ounce of direction in sight. It was, hands down, one of the best mornings we’ve had in a while.
There’s something about a rainy day and what it brings, in addition to the intoxicating smells and the comforting sounds, that without fail, completely and utterly soothes my soul.
Since I was a kid I have always loved the promise of a good storm – the larger than life presence and the excitement you feel as you wait patiently for that glorious first crack of thunder. But as an adult, I’m beginning to realize it’s much more than that.
It also brings absolutely nothing at all. In fact, it seems to take something away.
As it clears the chaos and cleanses the air, there’s nothing left and nothing happening besides itself. And as it sails you off into what seems like an everlasting present moment, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, every single expectation for the day – both big and small – magically disappears.
All of the shoulds, the needs, and the wants are somehow temporarily suspended, mid-flight, and it’s refreshing and imperative, and yet something you didn’t even really know you needed.
So last week, among many other things that I decided to shelve, I also chose not to write.
I let myself be carried off by the rain into its enchanting downpour of nothingness, and took the opportunity for a much needed break.
The shoulds, the needs, and the wants were all there, just below the surface, and at times, difficult to keep down. I wanted to explain and justify, but instead of holding on, I just let go and allowed the rain to wash it all away.