I love a nice cloudy day.
There’s something about it that feels like permission.
Permission to slow down. Permission to Netflix and chill. Permission to look outside and say, Well, I guess I’m not doing shit today.
Especially when it’s a rainy weekend and suddenly—plans canceled.
I love a canceled plan.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with a canceled plan. In fact, canceled plans might be my favorite plans.
I was listening to something recently from one of the girls I met at the retreat, and she said, “Cancel plans on me. I love a canceled plan.”
And I immediately thought, Girl. SAME.
Because suddenly, you have time you weren’t expecting to have.
It might not even be that much time, but it doesn’t matter. There is something different about unexpected free time. It feels like someone just handed you a tiny piece of your life back and said, Here. Do whatever you want with this.
And any little bit of time I get to spend with myself?
Oh, I am here for it.
So here for it.
It’s actually one of the reasons I try to do things with intention. When I step outside my house, I like having some idea of what I’m doing. I don’t necessarily want to spend my entire day wandering around willy-nilly, giving my time away to random things.
My time with myself has become valuable to me.
Today, I did wander around a little more than usual, but I knew I could because this weekend is basically all rain. There’s a storm passing through—the skirts, the shrapnel, the leftovers of a hurricane—and now I’m home.
And I am so at peace.
I’m looking out the window right now, watching this tiny drizzle tap against the leaves of the Japanese maple.
The window is open.
We’re just listening.
It sounds like a soundscape somebody would search for on their phone to help them relax, except this one is real.
No app.
No headphones.
Just rain.
It feels like a deep breath.
In.
Out.
A little box breathing courtesy of Mother Nature.
There is definitely a vibe when the clouds are out, the rain is lightly falling, and you have nowhere to go, nothing you have to do, nowhere you have to be, and—my personal favorite—no plans.
Everything gets quiet.
Everything gets calm.
And for a little while, you get to simply enjoy the rain.
These days may not happen often.
But when they do, I think they are some of the most beautiful.
Sometimes a canceled plan isn’t losing your plans at all.
Sometimes it’s getting your time back.
