Why is sunny weather always considered good?

I love foggy, cloudy, rainy and stormy weather. I always have. I am not talking about the kind that is severe and causes damage and injury, but the regular kind of stormy grey weather that is normal, part of the weather, part of life. 

Maybe it’s the melancholic part of me, the part that relates to storminess, greyness, not being bright and sunny. I am, for the most part, an optimist, although I must admit that these political times are testing that severely.

I look for the lessons in pain, am grateful for all of my feelings, feel like they all have value and are part of the glory, bittersweet as it is, of being alive.

I am constantly bombarded by judgmental weather forecasts. Laugh if you must, but these days, I guess my irritability quotient is higher, for the political reasons mentioned above. I now speak up. In whose opinion I might respond to the weather forecasters on TV when they predict lovely weather ahead, meaning sunny and bright. 

I find it amusing that people are so perplexed by my view.

Good weather, I respond, is in the eye of the beholder. I know that people don’t mean any harm, but frankly, it’s getting on my one last nerve. I can’t wait, they say, for this lousy weather to change. Might I point out that I don’t complain when they are in their glory and talking about the wonderful sunny days. I ask for the same respect about what I feel, like taking comfort in the clouds, being soothed by rain, feeling understood by storms, and feeling safer in the grey, where it is somehow more acceptable not to be out and about bouncing around like happy extroverts.

Ok, so this is my introvert side speaking. But she deserves to have her space, and I am finally old enough to claim it, own it, and speak it aloud. 

I can accept that most people seem happier with the sunlight. They like houses that have a lot of light. It’s even a selling point in real estate. Darkness and greyness are pejorative terms. 

My house is not light and bright. It has more of a cabin in the woods feel. I feel welcomed by it when I walk in. Inevitably people describe it as cozy when they visit. It is a small house, and it suits me perfectly. I enjoy being cozy. I don’t enjoy bright and open spaces as much with no place to sit quietly with my thoughts, hidden from the brightness, and with darker spaces that grant more permission to explore the grey storms within. 

It’s interesting, I think, to look at all the ways that brightness, extroversion, and bubbliness are seen as better somehow in our society. I love Susan Cain’s books and work on the power of introversion (Cain, Susan, Quiet -the Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, 2012) and the recognition of the bittersweetness of life (Cain, Susan, Bittersweet -How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole, 2022.) I am a card-carrying member of that tribe. 

I am an ambivert. I strike up conversations with strangers in elevators, notice my environment and frequently interact with others around me. And I also love, after my time when I have been out being social, to retreat to my nest at home to replenish myself, to come home to me, and to feel all that may be churning inside me, which usually includes a few storms within. 

As an elder now, I find that I express these parts of me much more, and express myself when I am not feeling seen or heard. I don’t express everything to everyone anymore, which is also one of the joys of having reached this age for me. Why talk about such things with those who have no understanding of my language of storms and no interest in learning about that, but who would rather try and coax me into the sun and have me look up at it, not hearing that this hurts me. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy sunny days. But truth be known, I am more at home in the grey, in the storms, in the quiet rain, in the fog. I am home when I feel safer to be all of me, and when I can retreat and simply be. I am home in my cabin and quiet. 

So, weather forecasters, please take the judgment out of your descriptions. Say it will be sunny, don’t say it will be great. Say it will be cloudy or rainy, but don’t call it dismal or gloomy or something to be tolerated until we get back to the good weather. Could we just have the facts, please. 

And maybe, just maybe, we could grant ourselves and each other the same grace when it comes to our feelings. Maybe we can say we are sad, angry, frustrated, joyful, or excited, but not have to call it feeling good or bad. There really is no good or bad when it comes to weather or to feelings. Yes, some may not feel as pleasant as others, that is for sure. That doesn’t make them bad. They are simply feelings. They are part of the gift of being alive, like weather is part of the gift of this precious earth. It needs the sun and the rain, as do we all.

So, I wish you whatever kind of day that you need, that nourishes you, that helps to sustain you. Claim your own kind of weather. Claim what speaks to your soul. .