Lots of people are grateful for bright, beautiful days, the kind that warm your hair and make you turn toward the sun. I love those, too – they remind me there is love in the world, even in the most troubling times. Sometimes it’s this little ray of light that saves me.
But today I’m writing about another kind of day. The sort when the sky opens, the rain pours down in buckets, and my windshield wipers have no hope of keeping up. You wouldn’t think this particular experience would top my list seeing as I’m one of those people who can feel a little down on gloomy days.
So why am I grateful for torrential rain?
It turns all the focus inward. When the outside is a sheet of water, suddenly the inside of my car feels warmer. As if I’m actually present in that space instead of simply using it to get somewhere. My mind is no longer pushed out ahead of me, thinking about the details of my day and destination. Instead I pull inward, focusing on music or simply the sound of rain.
It’s a fresh start again. Pounding water washes away that nasty pollen, wiping clean allergens and grimy fingerprints on doors. When I get out it’s not carwash clean, but it’s a fresher version than the day before. The white’s a little whiter, the windows are a little less grimy, and it seems almost…happier. Because who wants to go around covered in dirty yellow pollen?
Then there’s the beauty of the summer storm. Days when it’s 98 degrees, I’m melting on the walk to the mailbox, and air conditioning is the only relief around. When the sky opens in a whiteout rain and you can’t see across the street for half an hour, there’s hope. It’s breathtaking to step outside after the storm and find the temperature’s dropped a good ten degrees or more.
My post as part of Colline’s Gratitude Project.