'Good weather we're having' - I can't stop thinking about these words.
We've just had days upon days of rain in Vancouver. I can't stop thinking about how offhand comments made during small talk with people we barely know profoundly impact us. Words run deep in our minds and affect our view of the world.
Days with the warmth of sunshine kissing our skin we prescribe as good. We celebrate them, find joy in them. Good weather.
But days that are dark, gloomy, and wet…We belittle. We moan about them, we begrudge them, we pray for them to pass as though they were bad weather.
But rain brings life too. Rain is as essential as the sun.
Rain is just as much of a joy as sun.
If you don't believe me, I dare you to wrap up warm, put on your cosiest jumper and your most water-tight shoes and go for a walk in the rain - not on the streets near a road where cars create a constant whooshing drone…
Go somewhere green.
Go where you can hear the gentle, meditative pitter-patter on leaves and the regular thud-thud on soil.
Go where you can smell the musk of wet earth.
Go where the rain picks up the scent of pine, or sea salt, or grass.
Go to feel the cool dribble over your skin and the soft give of land under your feet.
Go to indulge your senses.
Go to where the plants drink up the quenching rainfall, after a parching summer, and a restful winter, taking restorative drinks before they awake from their slumber and start their year over again.
I promise you’ll see the good in rain.
This section will appear at the bottom of every newsletter, a space to share and celebrate joyful moments from the week.
I’d love to revel in your joy too, so feel free to share any joy you've recently experienced in the comments. For now, here’s mine.
I took myself out to listen to live music. A few weeks ago, I spotted a candlelight tribute to Ludovico Einaudi's classical music. I sat on this for weeks, wondering if I should go alone, as I had no one to go with. 3 hours before the concert, I booked a ticket for myself. Zero regrets; it was a relaxing way to start a Saturday evening.
I followed this up with a trip to my favourite taco place in Vancouver. My mouth is salivating just thinking about the tangy acidic flavours muddled with cauliflower, battered onion, and creamy mayo.
Over to you.
Chelsea🐌
Oh yes! Thank you. My joy was the brief pleasure of crunching in a frozen muddy puddle. Grey dull winter days can have joy.
What a beautiful bit of writing! My moment of joy just happened - my wife and I went to the allotment this morning and were joined by a curious and persistent pair of friendly robins.