The Mourning Sun

I woke up this morning still tired and beaten from the days that just passed me by, the rain clouds have scattered and now the sunlight is peeking through.  This is the Mourning Sun.  A play on words?  Definitely.  The morning sun is the one that feels brighter than the rest, almost blinding.  The morning sun is the one that makes us confused about the time after the rainstorm.  It’s warm and friendly, it reminds us how beautiful life is because even in the dirtiest of places…the sky is clear.  That, is the Mourning Sun.  Let me explain:

As a play on words, the same sorts of things happen to us following a metaphorical rainstorm.  For awhile, its dark and windy, rain patters on the windows of our soul.  At one point we had them open, we were free and care free.  We never expect the rain, we never expect the clouds and we never expect the darkness.  It’s like a cauldron of sadness, devastating to the relatively usual sunny disposition we may normally carry.

I, on the other hand, have always found the rain to be rather cleansing.  You’ll usually find me, at some point, just standing there in the rain letting myself get soaked.  It matters not that my clothes are wet, that’s an easy fix.  It matters not that I am cold and uncomfortable, I welcome a hot shower.  All that matters is that in that moment, I am care free and have let go of that which has consumed me in the days prior.  Then suddenly, a blinding light and radiant warms me.  I can barely open my eyes because the light feels so sharp and sudden, almost as if the sun was being reborn and a new world will unfold as my eyes widen.  This is the Mourning Sun.

It is so bright that it’s hard to keep your eyes open, it’s warmth is minimal but it’s there and we feel it.  The skies are clear and the clouds may be lingering but they no longer skew my vision of the stars.  I recall, nay, never forget the loss of this warmth before the storm and yet am still moved at how much clearer the sky is.  How brisk the air is, as if it knows that for the time being it is free to move about as it wishes.  For those of you who are awake during sunrise, you know the feeling.  It’s one that is shown to you with a majesty and beauty unbound by the normal restrictions of our imagination.  It’s powerful and weak, it’s a constant reminder of the little things we forget to cherish and sparks a love of life.  This moment, this time and those that will follow are our wake up call.

If we did not have the rain we would never fully appreciate a sunny day.  All is well even when it’s not, the sun will return and brighter than ever.  The warmth will return and the object that lit our path will have never left for whether we see it or not, we carry that warmth until it returns.


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