Sunday, August 2, 2015
I learned a new word recently. Pluviophile. It means a lover of rain, someone who finds joy and peace of mind on rainy days. For the past couple of months, I've been busy preparing for a special event, cramming in hours of volunteer time each evening after work and on both days of each weekend in order to be ready for the big weekend. With the fine summer weather, I've also wanted to take walks every evening. I've had housework, shopping, church and other volunteer obligations to fulfill. I've slipped in precious time with my husband and stolen moments with friends. Just looking at my to-do list each day made me feel increasingly frazzled and exhausted. I love to be busy, but not at such a constant harried pace. And then it happened. One evening in the middle of all of the busyness it rained, a gentle, constant drizzle under gray skies and a bit of wind. The mounting weight of my to-do list instantly fell from my shoulders. I felt the sigh of relaxation, all because it was raining. I love rainy days and rainy nights. I especially love the sound of rain striking the windows as I'm falling asleep. Rain seems to give me permission to stop for a while, to reflect and to renew. Rain invites me to curl up in my favorite chair, put my nose in a good book and steal a nap. And so it was that evening. The pluviophile in me stopped all that she had been doing, ignored the to-do list and celebrated the rain with her feet up, a good book on her lap, a drowsy relaxation overcoming her. I shouldn't need a rainy evening to permit me to take such a much-needed break. I should be able to create those rainy-evening priorities without the precipitation. That is a work in progress. For now, I am grateful for the quiet, gentle rain that quieted my mind that evening, allowing me to be gentle with myself. I love the life-giving gift of rain.