On stormy days, gentle moments, and the art of slowing down

Hawaii is supposed to face a storm this weekend. Heavy rain and wind expected until Monday, the whole state under a flood watch.

Normally, that would mean slick roads, traffic that feels personal, and the low-level anxiety that comes with driving in heavy rain. But not this time. Luckily, I’m off work on the weekend. No long commutes dealing with drivers that show zero aloha. No bracing myself, wondering how many hours it will take me to my destination.

No leaving the house unless I want to—and I don’t.

Which makes this the best kind of storm.

I’ve realized there are two types of rainy days: the stressful ones, and the cozy ones. The kind where the rain becomes background noise instead of an obstacle. Where the house feels warmer, the air feels softer, and the outside world gives you full permission to stay put.

There’s something about the sound of rain that settles me instantly. The steady rhythm against the roof, the soft tapping on the patio—it feels like white noise for the soul. Like the world humming itself into a calmer pace.

I’m a pluviophile—I love the rain. Always have. There’s something about it that feels grounding, like the world is being gently reminded to slow down. Rainy days like this make me want to curl up, read a book, let time blur a little, and keep writing my own story without checking the clock every five minutes.

My two fur babies, Chewy and Whiskey, are fully on board with this plan. Extra naps. Extra cuddles. Zero productivity. Honestly, they set the tone.

And lately, we’ve had a bonus guest.

Baby Girl—the stray cat who’s been coming around for the past four or five months—is very pregnant. Like any day now pregnant. When it rains, she camps out on our patio almost all day, tucked in and watching the weather or sleeping in like she’s part of the household. I love that. Something about knowing she’s dry, safe, and comfortable makes the rain feel even better.

Bronson usually comes home early on Saturdays, which feels like such a quiet luxury. No plans. No running around. Just the two of us being homebodies, sharing space, checking in, enjoying the simple comfort of being exactly where we are.

Especially when the weather is this cozy, because somewhere between the rain, the quiet, and the comfort of being home, I get more than a few extra kisses from Bronson—no complaints there ;-).

I really love being at home, even more so when it’s raining. When the world outside feels dramatic and the inside feels calm. When doing nothing feels productive in its own way.

Some weekends aren’t meant for errands or schedules or pushing through.

Some weekends are meant for storms, staying in, and letting life soften around you.

And I’m happily leaning into that.

Dear rain,

thank you for keeping us home, the house full of love, and the patio warm for anyone who needs it.

Thank you for the stillness, the closeness, and the way you soften the world outside.

I love you so much.

Love,

Honey