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Bowing to a Wall of Gray


A couple weeks ago we were in Tahoe, and one morning after a snow storm I went out on the porch soon after sunrise to greet the sun as I always do. Nature was putting on a real show, the pink clouds peeking through the winter wonderland-like snow covered trees.


It’s not always like that. There are plenty of mornings I go out there, the yard mostly mud and the sky a drab flatness. I’ve even accidentally stepped back into the dog’s waste when doing my sun salutation a couple of times.  


The sun salutation is a series of bows, have you noticed? The bow is a gesture that crosses many cultures. Its origin comes from what happens when someone approaches an enlightened person and their presence causes the person to spontaneously transcend, making their head dip towards the chest.


It’s one thing to bow down to the sun in all its glory, shining in all directions, bouncing off every surface and tree branch like a thousand tiny prisms. But it’s something else to bow to a wall of gray.


These are the days when the wall of gray is on the inside. On those days, it doesn’t matter if the sun is shining, rather than pulling us out of it, in can feel like the rays mock our clouded heart.


It can bring me to tears, to think of all the people out there in the dark on sunny days, yet bowing anyway with nothing but the faint memory of a connection to something beautiful to tether to.


It’s more beautiful, wouldn’t you say? More beautiful than being brought to your knees when nature has her peacock feathers fanned out.


This is why I go out to the yard every dawn. My first action of the day not going to my phone, but oriented to something bigger. Even when I can’t see the sun. Especially when I can’t see the sun.


 

 



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