Da Goddess

I always knew — or, at least, suspected — the gray sky would give way to the blue. I just didn’t know when or how. I was also reluctant to admit it.

But here I lay, in my big bed, alone, watching the clouds lighten and change. The deep gray slowly morphs into something else, something more ephemeral until I can’t remember how dark the skies were as I gaze intensely into the brightening blue.

I should be happy with the new sky. I should feel lighter and brighter, more energized. I don’t. I liked the gray. I liked the way the heavier sky seemed to envelop and fully embrace me. That’s what gave me the courage to move more, to look harder at myself and my surroundings, to feel free to be myself. Happy, sad, everything and nothing in between. The gray sky never asked for anything other than I let myself be who I was in any given moment.

Blue skies almost demand you yield to their impossible brightness. Their big, puffy, spectacularly white clouds encourage you to spring into action.

I’m not that girl. I haven’t been her for a very long time. I can’t just turn on a light and bounce out of bed, straight into a day full of busy-ness. Now, in these days of aches and pains and an unsteady gait, I need time to slowly stretch, to ease movement out of weary joints and muscles, to will my body to get upright and remain that way. It’s what happens as we age or as we recover from some calamity or another…while we age. We don’t do anything quickly — even falls seem to take forever. Or maybe it’s just me.

In the gray, soft light I feel as though I have permission to take my time and ease into standing, walking, or even breathing. Nothing is hurried. Everything is cushioned and gently guided by Time itself.

Come to think of it, I don’t fall on gray days. I only fall under skies of blue. Why have I not realized this before? Perhaps I have and don’t remember. That, too, happens more as we get older.

As much as I do appreciate the brilliant azure skies above, I find myself more at ease, more myself under the gray gaze. I like the feeling of all the heavens closing in to become one, to become a singular entity drawing its arms in close about me, tenderly nudging my body and soul into the activities of life. I don’t greet blue skies with a kind smile these days. It’s just the way it is now.

Hey there, Mr. Blue
I see you
Now go away

Hey there, Mr. Blue
I’ve seen you
And now it’s time
To say adieu
Let me have the gentle kind
Kind of day for which I’ve paid
In many, oh so many ways
I’ll see you soon
Soon enough to love you once again
Just not today
Okay?*

I shall sit here on my porch and await the return of the reassuring blanket of comforting tones and perceived weight, the safety of a sky that looks the same at 3pm as it does at 10am. I’ll be here. I’ll wait…right…here…

(*Apologies to Jeff Lynne for the bastardization of a really nice song.)