Before you come at me, I understand that the world around me doesn’t change in any metaphysical way when the skies open and the clouds weep. What’s altered is my perception of my environment.
But I stand by my statement that life is more tolerable when it rains.
I’ve always loved a good storm. Something about it soothes me. The wilder the weather, the more I find myself at peace.
I’m not one to shy away from the thunder and lightning. Bring it on, especially at night! I’m always up for a free light show. As soon as it starts to rain, or the skies rumble to warn me that I’m going to miss out on something if I don’t hustle, I do my best to get outside.
If I’m at The House on the Hill, you’ll find me on the porch when it rains. I love to sit out there, my feet up on the rail, and often with my eyes closed to really listen to the sound of the rain pounding the earth.
I was having a particular stressful day today, but as soon as I heard the rain pounding against the office windows, I walked over for a look. It was like I didn’t have a choice. I was just drawn there. Even though I was still inside, a calm came over me as I watched the raindrops do their thing.
I’ll always be the idiot who’s not smart enough to come in out of the rain.
I might not jump in a puddle, but I’ll certainly run right through one if it’s along my path.
People will tell you not to rain on their parade, but I’d welcome that excitement. Parades are boring. A little thunder and lightning can really turn that performance by a marching band into can’t miss, edge of my seat excitement.
It’s just water. Unless you’re a witch, there’s nothing to fear.
When it rains, I don’t have time to think about the selfish people who won’t wear masks. Ironically, they’re too scared to go outside and get wet. Wouldn’t want them to melt.
I bet if I edited footage of any Trump speech so that it’s raining in the background, that vein in my forehead wouldn’t throb as much, and I wouldn’t ask myself over and over how anyone thinks this man is fit for public office.
The steady staccato of the rain drowns out anything that could possibly lead to the build up of stress. It washes away the angst, and doesn’t give anxiety any solid ground on which to build a foundation.
I have this theory that I was once hypnotized and given the suggestion that rain would instantly calm me.
Who needs an umbrella? Why would I want to keep away the calming, healing waters?
Life is definitely better when it rains. Too bad we’re going through such a dry spell…
Do you agree that life is better when it rains?