Anyway, it wasn't even raining hard. Just a slow, straight down rain, no wind, and it was warm.
Walking in the rain requires a particular kind of attentiveness. Wet leaves are slippery. Some puddles are too deep to ignore. So you have to watch where you are going.
I found that what I liked best was listening to the somewhat muffled sounds echoing around inside my hood while I walked with my eyes more or less always on the ground around me. The crowd from the football game a street or two over was cheering in between the announcer's announcements. Shouts of joy alternated with sighs of being let down. The rain was making a gentle showering sound, punctuated by definite drips off trees onto car hoods and into puddles. I just let myself listen.
At one point, I wondered about the time (waiting for my FitBit to buzz on my arm to say I'd met my goal) and felt the usual anxiety. Do I really have time for this? Shouldn't I hurry home to cook lunch or do some chores? Are there emails to look at from the office? Isn't there something I am supposed to be doing?
But then I made myself stop. Stop! Stop! Just keep listening, I told those nagging voices in my head. I am doing something right now! I do not need to be thinking about doing other things. I just need to be present to what I am doing now.
And this is the crux of the matter. Being present to what I am doing now. Understanding that what I am doing now is doing something, and letting go of judgment about that. There's always plenty to do. Sometimes just listening to rain dripping into puddles is what I need to be doing. That's more than OK. It's essential.