It rained the other day.

Not typical for the Midwest during the end of September.

I can’t say that a thunderstorm, with strong enough winds to lift a pup tent away from its stakes, passed through.

We weren’t visited by a clingy mist that, like a sad relative coming to a holiday dinner, does not prevent activity but sort of dampens the whole event.

It was real rain.  Lighter at times and, accompanied by thunder and lightning, it came down pretty heavily around 11:00 and again at 4:00.

It rained all day and night.  When the TV and radio were turned off, I could hear the sound of the water fill the gutters.  From my back deck or from the bottom of our building’s back stairs, I could see that the path to the parking pad behind our building was flooded.

I contemplated friends whose basements have been penetrated by such downpours.  I thought about streets and viaducts that I would try to route myself around should I even dare to go out.

I had the worst headache I’ve had in years.  Between changes in barometric pressure and a what seemed to be a high mold spore count, my sinuses felt like they were exploding.

Somehow, despite feeling poorly and having to cancel plans to attend a jazz festival which was largely held outdoors, I found myself happy about the rain.

It forced me to go inside, not just to spend my day indoors, but to spend time and attention on internal matters.

I remember hearing a friend recall with surprise how a child she was babysitting told her that instead of wanting to avoid being given a TIME OUT, he liked the experience.

He thought it was great to get settled and grounded even though his immediate impulse was to play or talk.  Even at a young age, he understood.

It’s good to get quiet and getting quiet can often be easier when you feel you have no choice.  (Of course, you always have the choice.)

That’s what this day of rain seemed like; a check-in or a TIME OUT.

I’ve been so preoccupied lately — weighing considerations, making decisions, writing out timelines — trying to figure things out.

I’m moving forward on a publishing project, investing in a print-on-demand collection of favorite blog posts.  After weeks of seeing minimal progress on her cruciate ligament tear, I have accepted the necessity to have my beloved dog, India, undergo surgery.

And then there’s work –

What ever happened to Sabbath, to having a day of rest?

I confess that between wage-earning activities, volunteer obligations, and normal household chores, it can feel like I don’t have time to DO NOTHING.

But, sometimes NOTHING is exactly what I need to do.

Using the rain and my killer headache as a general excuse, I didn’t even try to solve problems or fine-tune my calendar for the next week.  I completed a short training module on cyber security for my work as a market researcher and then turned my computer OFF.

I made soup. I swept my floor. I took a generic sinus medication.  I laid on my bed without any intention to nap.  I just wanted to REST.

It was like a FREE day.  I gave myself permission to take most of the day off.  I caught myself frequently listening to the rain, holding my dog close to my chest when thunder crackled above us.

I was thankful for the rain, not for soaking the earth and making the grass green, nor for cleaning the atmosphere.

I was thankful for feeling directed to slow down, for turning inward and letting go of thoughts about what needed to be done.

Taking advantage of a rainy day or giving yourself a time out is no small thing.