Whoever wrote Rain Rain Go Away surely did not understand how fun it was to play in the rain. While others wished for clear skies so their little Johnny could run around, I felt the opposite. Rain meant freedom. I was overjoyed because that was my best time to play.
As kids, we had the weirdest obsessions. We spent entire afternoons collecting bottle tops like they were gold. We chased butterflies or made paper ones. Hopscotch was the playground sensation before the internet took over everyone’s life.
Flying kites felt like having wings. Every gust of wind turned us into Captain Sully flying our plastic bag kites with skill. And stickers, oh boy. If you did not have stickers on your exercise books, you looked odd. That was our version of art collection. Looking back, it feels pointless, but those small joys made life feel big.
As adults, we do not always admit it, but we still chase the same joys we had as kids. We have even turned classic kids’ games into professional development. Now musical chairs is a must-do team-building exercise for managers. But maybe we miss the point. Maybe we should skip the meeting room and play in the rain sometimes. No agendas, no PowerPoints, just laughter and a reminder of how it felt to be free.
The fun part is, we still carry that version of ourselves. We miss certain joys, but we tell ourselves we have outgrown them. We worry about how we look and the rules we have created for our adult life.
Meanwhile, our inner child asks for small freedoms. A walk in the rain, a silly game, or a hobby we abandoned because our schedule became too tight. We do not need a full reset. We only need one act that reminds us of who we were before adulthood enslaved us.
As for me, every time it rains, I feel a pull. My younger self pushes me to step outside. I want to get soaked in the rain. I want to forget pressure and routine. I want a moment where nothing else matters.
And I know you feel it too. Your inner child still misses the things you loved most. Your mind tells you to act grown, but a small part of you wants those moments back.
But well, life happened. If I walk out to play in the rain today, people will think I smoked a high-grade joint or that my neurons are misfiring. So, I just look out the window, admiring the beauty of the water cycle while I get a good dose of calming rain sounds. It is blissful.
