Weather is one of those things that we are hard-wired for. It’s our base brain which responds to weather. Sure, you can intellectualize it. You can quantify it with temperature and pressure. But weather is as primeval as fear, food, and sex. You’re not buying this, are you?
Think about it. What do we talk about? Our fears, good food, great sex, and the weather. “Nice day?” is one of the most common introductory phrases spoken. Like a fire, we stare at the sunrise. Who hasn’t laid on a hillside and made shapes in their mind from passing clouds? If we’re lucky, sometimes we have the perfect dinner, stare at the sunset, and follow it with great sex. See, your primeval brain can have a great night out.
We’re wired to pay attention to the weather like our lives depend on it and they do. Just like our ancestors, we need to know when to take shelter from a storm and when the season is right to plant our crops. Even our moods are affected by how much sunlight we see. People at extreme latitudes suffer more depression in the shortened days of winter. We should feel sorry for them, but during those long night, they’re having great sex so screw them, literally.
So where’s the odd little happy in all this talk about the weather? Today was gray and overcast. There was brilliant, ozone-creating lightening and rolls of echoing thunder this morning. It rained most of the day. True to the old saying, “Don’t like the weather? Wait a minute,” by 5 o’clock, the sky was clear and blue. The birds were back singing after hunkering down all day. The dogs weren’t afraid to go outside again and stopped peeing on the rugs. Things changed that quickly.
Some complain about the rain, but I don’t. I didn’t have to mow the lawn today or water it either. Free, nitrogen-rich water literally fell from the sky. Some complain about the sun, but I don’t. I just put on my sunglasses, pour a tall iced tea, sit on my deck, and took fabulous in the good light. Whichever the weather, you just have to learn to take the good with the good.
While your chasing the odd little happy, beware of reindeer-munching, semi-depressed Eskimos looking for a one-night stand and keep your eye on the sky. The odd little happy may be just behind the next cloud.