I’ve noticed people tend to hate weather. Whether it be the cold, the snow, the rain, the hail, or the lava creeping into their homes, it seems fairly popular to hate all weather. I’m not like that. I love the weather, maybe possibly too much.
For example, when it rains, I love being inside. Sometimes I like being outside too, maybe hiking or sitting on the porch under a roof. There’s just something about the sound that is so calming and so peaceful I just want to melt into it and become one with the rain.
The only times I hate the rain is when:
- I don’t have proper clothing/gear
- I can’t be wet for some reason
- It’s winter
- I am skiing
Otherwise, it’s just a whole lot of love. I love it especially when I am depressed and just need some kind of relief, something to push me out of my funk and remind myself what’s real, what’s important. Rain always pulls through.
When I was in middle school and first started showing signs of depression, I used to look out the window when it rained and made believe that Mother Nature, who I loved so dearly, was crying with me, to make me feel better, to make me feel like I was less alone.
I still like to think like that sometimes. It’s especially nice to know that rain, although seemingly unpleasant at first, provides so much for growth. It gives plants the means to grow bigger and healthier. It gives animals water to drink, a means to bathe. It allows growth, even if that means we have to take shelter for awhile, that we need to put on our rain boots, step over puddles, and trek through mud.
The nature of rain brings me so much hope and peace. It feels like a reset button. Plus, walking through the woods in the rain makes me feel like I’m on some kind of rainforest adventure (bucket list), that the birds taking shelter are toucans, and the whole forest grows in turn with the influx of water.
A former roommate of mine once told me she met a strange woman who believed water had infinite healing powers and that it gives us so much – it gives us life, that we should thank it. When I got sick, I sat in my nightly epsom salt baths and thanked the water. I also prayed to every god conceived of by man to help me get through this, but the water was a nice, familiar “pal” which seemed less intimidating than some magical, invisible, wish-granting super-being.
As I sit here writing this at 4AM on a random Tuesday, I’m listening to the rain outside, wishing I could melt into it yet again, become one with it. I’ll thank it. I’ll tell it I love it and that I appreciate it and I will continue to love it over and over again.
Photo Credit: a3stheticz