When I was a child, my parents planned a family picnic. For days beforehand, we talked about it as a family. We discussed the games we'd play, the food we'd eat and where we'd spread the picnic blanket. Everything had been carefully prepared. My parents had made the food from scratch and, like most children, I could hardly wait.
Then the day arrived. The weather was dreadful. Torrential rain. Thunder. Lightning. Strong winds were forecast later in the day. I remember feeling immensely disappointed. It seemed so unfair that something completely outside our control could spoil what we'd all been looking forward to.
My parents looked out of the window for a moment, smiled at one another and made a decision. Not to cancel. Not to postpone it until next weekend. Not to spend the day talking about what might have been. Instead, they pushed the furniture back against the walls. The picnic blanket was laid out in the middle of the living room. The sandwiches still came out. The homemade cakes still appeared. The board games we'd planned to play outside were played on the lounge floor instead.
We laughed. We talked. We ate far too much. We decided to make the very best of what we had.
To adapt. To create precious memories anyway.
Looking back, I don't remember the storm. I remember the picnic. As I've grown older, I've realised we don't just postpone picnics. We postpone conversations we know we need to have. We postpone writing the book that's quietly calling to us. We postpone changing careers, starting the business, taking the trip or repairing a relationship. We convince ourselves we'll begin when life settles down, when we have more time, when we feel more confident, when the children are older or when the timing is finally right.
We wait for better weather. Sometimes it arrives. Often it doesn’t. Life has taught me that the conditions are rarely perfect. There is almost always another reason to wait, another plan to make or another obstacle to overcome before we allow ourselves to begin.
The better question may not be, "When will the weather improve?" It may be, "What can I create with the weather I have today?" That rainy afternoon taught me something I didn't fully understand until many years later. Whilst we can't always choose our circumstances, we have far more influence over the atmosphere we create than we sometimes believe.
We can postpone joy until life becomes easier, or we can choose to adapt. The weather outside still matters. Some storms are real, and some seasons of life are genuinely hard. This isn't about pretending otherwise. It's about recognising that difficult circumstances don't have to prevent us from living today, on our terms.
Some of the happiest memories of my childhood weren't created because everything went to plan. They were created because my parents refused to let the plan matter more than the people. They refused to let the weather decide whether that day was worth living. Perhaps that's why, all these years later, I still think about that rainy afternoon whenever life doesn't unfold as I'd hoped. It reminds me that the life we're waiting to live rarely begins when everything is perfect.
It begins the moment we decide to make the very best of what we have. Sometimes courage isn't found in changing the weather. Sometimes it's found in laying a picnic blanket on the living room floor and creating precious memories anyway. One meaningful question. One small step. Choose one thing you've been putting off because the conditions aren't quite right.
Don't ask yourself when everything will finally line up. Ask yourself: "How can I make the very best of today?"
Until next week, take care of yourself and those around you.
Nova Soleil x