under a cloud

Sometimes it’s easy to feel content on a cloudy day; it’s almost as if the pressure is off to be cheerful and pleasant.  It’s cloudy outside, it’s grey, so who cares if you feel a little off – no one expects you to be chipper on a cloudy day.  But what if you feel ‘cloudy’ when the sun if shining in full brilliance?  Do you paste a nice little smile on your face and rehearse your “how do you do’s” in front of the bathroom mirror so that you are fully prepared to be the most charming version of yourself when confronted with another human being?  Why do we do that, pretend to be happy when we are not?  Are we afraid someone might actually see our real emotions?  I’m guilty.  So many times I exchange pleasantries when I actually feel like turning my head and pretending I don’t see or hear anything.  Why can’t I be more like my children who simply ignore me when they don’t feel like interacting?  Is there some iron rule when we grow up that we don’t get to pretend to be invisible anymore?  I’ve thought maybe I could be like my dog who turns his head away when I’m telling him something he’d rather not hear like, “go get on your bed.”  He thinks because his head is turned in the other direction it means I can’t really see him and he can’t really hear me.  Sometimes I wish that I could hold my breath until I suddenly disappear into my own safe place where there are clouds and I’m allowed to be perfectly content that the sun isn’t shining.  There have been days that the sun hasn’t shown at all and as I’m sitting there surrounded by my cloud I actually feel like on that day I might actually make it to the next one.

When I was a child my father and I longed for cloudy days so we could lie upon the grass, gazing up at the sky, and try to figure out what shapes were staring back down at us.  I learned a long time ago that sitting under a cloud wasn’t such a bad thing because sometimes it was easier to understand life without the glare of the sun blinding you.

About this entry