The other day, as I sat in an empty house, worrying about the future and what it would bring me, the soft pitter patter of rain broke me from my reverie. I glanced outside, the rain was starting to come down harder: The pit pat gradually becoming thud, splat, pit, thud. I dropped my phone at the table, barely taking notice of the crashing noise, and dashed towards the back door. The rain had fallen across the glass and lay atop it in little droplets. I opened the door with a shhhh as it slid on its wheels, and stepped into the rain. All around me it thudded, smacking hard against the ground and onto my head and shoulders. Although it sounded like boulders dropping, the water felt cool and calming against my skin. The air was humid, and smelt like earth; the sweet scent of grass and rain mixed with the soft spice of pine needles. I couldn’t tell you how long I stood in my small backyard, shoe-less, but by the time I came in, I was soaked. My hair and clothes stuck against my damp skin, and it was only after that that I’d actually realized just how amazing it was to get outside, and truly pay attention the everything around you. How calming everything about the rainstorm was, and how relaxed I felt afterwards.
Try it sometime: Going outside in nature and forgetting everything for a while. It could do a lot of people a world of good.