I’m not sure why, but the sky always makes me feel better about life.
Yesterday, I was getting more and more annoyed at my past self for not filing things, as I sifted through old bills, receipts, letters and forms and my floor was becoming carpeted in now-useless trash.
I was still feeling sick, even after four days of runny eyes, runny nose, chills, headaches, and exhaustion. There was loud music and chatter coming up through the floor from the sandwich shop below my room.
All of my friends were busy and unavailable for phone calls – the only social interaction I was really capable of, given my state. I was at that point in being sick where I was starting to feel better – but just better enough to want to do things, not better enough to actually do them. I was overwhelmed, lonely, and frustrated.
And then, as I was looking up to start sorting through another pile of processed trees (oh, the forests we kill for such bad reasons), I happened to catch sight of some clouds. And a tree against those clouds. And some streetlights glowing up out of the fading evening light.
And, miraculously, I could breathe again. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t breathing – but suddenly, everything expanded, just as it should when we’re living fully. Perhaps it was the contrast of wide open beauty, versus the clutter of nonsense on the floor and desk around me.
I finished my sorting (yay, me!), made some tea, lit a candle, and grabbed a book. “It’s okay,” I told myself. “You’re still sick. It’s okay to slow down.”
For me, all it takes is a glimpse of the sky.