My Creative Voice

Trying to add value, make sense of what's coming next and keeping things going in the same direction.

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

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It has been a long time of grey.  Grey skies, grey clouds, grey rain and grey snow.  The sunshine is staying hidden behind the grey and it keeps its’ brightness for the heavens above.  I can handle short periods of grey as long as they are punctuated periodically by cloudless, blue, shiny skies that would inspire Satan to ask God’s forgiveness.  But this never ending, ceaseless onslaught of colorless days has me thinking of approaching that fallen angel for some time down under and I don’t mean Australia.  To feel the heat of anything would be an improvement.  To feel the heat of the sun as it shines suspended in a gravitational dance around our planet would be perfection.  To have to squint in discomfort as the rays bounce off the road less travelled would be welcomed without reaching for sunglasses.  To finally have an end to the long time of grey – this is my all consuming desire right now.  This is what drives me to even consider a deal with the devil.  This is the power that the sun has over the grey days that make time stand still and kills my soul slowly every day.

I feel strung out by my winter’s hibernation.  The feeling of sloth that over takes me in November is giving way to crabbiness, edginess, and discontent.  My brain is hot and sweaty with cabin fever that threatens to send me into a seizure of anger and activity.  PMS has nothing on the mood swings that March brings out in me.  I can feel the vibration of the flowers and grass as they begin to wake up and push their way out of the earth that has been their protector all these months.  The sap of the trees sings a melody to me as clear as if Mozart had woken up out of his own grey slumber and composed a maple symphony.

This movement, this energy, this itch in my soul will be solved with a simple solution: The soothing balm of the sun.  The grey needs to go away.  Whatever its’ purpose, whatever its’ goal, whatever it hoped to achieve is lost on me.  Underneath my skin, in my deepest heart, the growing hatred of the grey seethes and gnaws at me.  It forms a cloud over my eyes so that nothing is beautiful and spring will never be sprung again.  The grey stretches out in front of me so much longer than the road I wish to travel on.

Once upon a time there was a rainbow that sparkled and danced and radiated joy as the sun shone upon it.  To gaze at it was to see the hand of God using his palette to spread happiness to all.  Grey was not in the rainbow for even God saw that grey is the absence of color, the absence of joy, the absence of happiness.  He used the bright colors to break up the grey surrounding the rainbow, to signal the end of the storm, the end of the nothingness.  I wait for the day when the rainbow will come again and banish the grey back to it’s nothingness place.  I wait for the day that the clouds will lift and the world will be beautiful to me once more.  I wait for the day where the time of grey will end and life will begin again dancing to a new song of color and light and joy.

Author: Elizabeth Plouffe

Writer, communicator, entrepreneur, tea enthusiast (bordering on fanatic) who enjoys helping others connect. Cookbook reader, cottage lover, book devourer (apparently I make up my own language too) and seeker of the ambition to exercise.

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