Grief
I levered myself out of bed at silly o clock this morning because I wanted, needed, to see the sunrise. Now in our current lockdown state, I wouldn’t be able to travel far, so this wasn’t going to be a glorious sunrise, viewed over my favourite seascape, or one witnessed as I stood victorious at the top of my favourite hill.It wouldn’t be a sunrise where I would notice the the emerging rays glance off the surface of a distant river, there would be no swathes of mist, rolling and glistening in a final ethereal farewell and there wouldn’t be a flock of ducks and geese exploding into their raucous greeting of the morning as they perform their ritual morning flyover. No.This sunrise would take place in the most mundane of places. This sunrise would be the burst of sunshine that appears briefly through my kitchen window and lands in a perfectly triangular patch of brilliance on the wall by the back door, where it rests for twenty minutes or so, just touching the edge of the shower room door. This brilliant splash of morning sunlight lending an extra vibrancy to the already colourful paintwork, dust motes swirling and dancing in its gaze before it moves onward to bathe the roof in its golden glow. And I imagine and look forward to the places I could be and I remember fondly those places I have been.
I live in an old, cold house and I revel in this welcome dazzle of sunshine with its promise of a warm embrace, knowing that this is what happens whether I witness it or not. I adore the sun, I adore the physical changes in my body as I notice the warmth of the sun on my skin, enough to replace the dull lethargic ache of a vitamin deficient system. It lifts my mood whenever I see a glimmer of blue sky, banishing sluggish and clouded thoughts from my head, chasing them away with hopeful brightness. This almost secret twenty minutes makes me think that our thoughts are indeed like clouds. Clouds that come and go, some white and fluffy that we can play with and watch as they form into new shapes and scenes, some skittish and fast and hard to grasp, others sluggish and grey and sometimes ominous. Whatever those clouds are, they will pass through our minds leaving a fascinating trail while all the time the sunshine continues with its healing power. Sometimes it shines brightly, easy to see, sometimes we catch the dazzle between the clouds, sometimes we have to look harder, searching for the tiniest glimmer of sparkling light through the dense heavy layer. Even when the clouds are heavy and seemingly impenetrable, know that the sun still shines behind, waiting patiently for its turn to shine and sometimes appearing briefly, like a halo, to kiss the top of your head.
