When the Rain Says, “Sit Down Somewhere”
Let’s talk about this Greensboro, NC weather for the past few days. It’s May. Supposedly springtime. But instead of soft breezes and sunshine, we’ve been hit with what feels like a monsoon season—rain, thunder, grey skies that linger a little too long. It’s the kind of weather that makes you want to cancel everything, wrap yourself in a blanket, and stare out the window in deep thought... or maybe no thought at all.
I’ve found myself wondering: What is it about this kind of weather that makes us want to be still? Why does a thunderstorm feel like an invitation to turn the noise down—not just the volume around us, but the noise inside us?
Maybe it’s because rain removes the pressure to perform. There’s no need to hustle in a downpour. The rain is nature’s way of slowing things down, and when it comes with thunder and drama, it does so unapologetically. That’s what makes it such good sleeping weather. The rhythm of the rain calms our nervous systems. It’s grounding. It’s not just water falling from the sky—it’s a sacred reminder to pause.
But let’s take it deeper.
If you're a leader—or someone who knows you’ve been called to lead—it’s easy to confuse movement with meaning. It’s easy to fill your calendar and believe that busyness equals purpose. But the truth is, purpose doesn't thrive in chaos. Purpose requires clarity. And clarity demands stillness.
Storms—whether in the sky or in your life—can be your greatest teacher. They show you what matters. They ask you to listen instead of talk. And if you’re paying attention, they’ll whisper: You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. You just have to be present enough to receive the next direction.
As someone who coaches leaders and guides purpose-driven transformation, I’m constantly reminding folks: Rest is not the opposite of productivity—it’s the foundation of powerful, intentional leadership.
So the next time it rains, take it personally. Let the storm be your invitation to stop performing and start reflecting. Ask yourself:
What am I rushing through that deserves more thought?
Where am I leading from survival instead of strategy?
What do I need to release so I can return to purpose?
And then... really sit with those answers. No timeline. No pressure. Just truth.
Your call to action?
Let the weather slow you down long enough to hear your own wisdom. You don’t need sunshine to shine. You just need permission to pause. And if this stormy season gives you that? Consider it a gift.
So go ahead—wrap up in that blanket. Light the candle. Sit with your thoughts. The thunder isn’t here to scare you. It’s here to shake you back to yourself.
