When I find myself feeling down and in despair, I either step outside or look out of my window, then allow my eyes to pan upward and breathe. There is something mysteriously wonderful, resonant and placid about looking up towards the sky and realizing that even if everything around me is in disarray, for this moment, I am okay.
I opened the blinds to my bay-window a couple of days ago and from each angle of the window, the sky looked different. The right end window showed nothing but stormy dark gray clouds. As I walked to the center window I saw gray clouds mixed with white clouds against a Carolina blue sky. My curiosity led me to walk over to the last window and there was a wisp of gray clouds floating among fluffy white clouds, against a beautiful blue backdrop.
As I steady my gaze and think about it, I ask if the sky truly changes or is it a resolute universal canvas? I wonder if the lens of our perspective is zeroing in on transitions like the earth’s rotation, seasonal changes, the sun and moon’s movement, and the clouds drifting between the sky and us, atmospherically teaching us new lessons? The variations of clouds I saw from my window were circumstances, remnants moving away as a rainstorm just past through. Behold, the sun began peaking through in all of its brilliance.
All I know is the sky is a portrait that is ever-evolving within my emotionally charged spirit. No special effects needed. That is the type of peace that surpasses my understanding. Some things are seen and felt, and cannot offer an explanation. Sometimes the feeling becomes the explanation.
*Photos courtesy of and found in public domain.