They put the tea on because they know you’re on your way. You grab your jacket, I wait by the door. Before you go, can you show me where I look to turn the breaker back on if we run the blow dryers at the same time again? And quickly show me where we keep the lightbulbs? Does this picture frame need a screw or will a nail do? Do you think if I move the clothes out of it you could take my old dresser out of the closet? You don’t have time for all this but I continue; When is it time to change my tires? How do I make sure the hoses won’t freeze up in the winter? What if the bank calls and tells me I can increase my credit limit, should I do it? Can you quickly explain to me why the democrats want to get rid of fracking? And also what is fracking? Do you think I’m on the right career path? Should I be investing part of my paycheque? What is that noise coming from the furnace? Can you check it out I can’t sleep if it’s clicking all night? You sit patiently with me, I know you have to ...
Someone called me sunshine.
And I think (just maybe) it might be the best compliment I’ve ever received,
and here’s why.
I remember one day specifically, I was driving with my dad in his truck, and I put the visor down to block the sun. He reached over and put it back up, and said, “you need a little sun on your skin.”
I don’t think I’ve put it down since. It’s just the feeling of absolute radiance. Warmth, and safety, good weather and happiness, laughing kids, basketballs bouncing in the driveway, and now it feels so good I can’t bring myself to ever try and block it out.
My dad taught me that sometimes all you need is a little vitamin D. A dose of sunshine works wonders on an aching body and an aching soul. It heals. It brings a healthy glow onto your precious, winter skin, and it burns so so so slow. All day long it burns away.
Even if you get a sunburn you know? After a long day, you come inside and you see the marks it left on you. You put on cold Aloe Vera, sleep on your belly so not to irritate it, and eventually it heals.
The same thing works with us. We burn, and we burn and burn and burn, and after a while, we learn what works to heal and what doesn’t, and we get better at protecting ourselves from the next one.
I, too, am the sun. I heal. I burn.
There’s a moment, when you look into the sun, and your eyes just can’t take it anymore. Everything goes completely blank. I think us as humans need to (metaphorically, of course) just stare into the sun a little more often. Just let it take away everything. Give us a clean slate. A moment to notice everything around us.
Everything feels like sunshine even when it doesn’t.
Even on the thunder-iest days. Even in the night. Even with the curtains closed.
Because there are some small moments in life that show you that sunshine isn’t only a thing; it’s an entire feeling. An entire mood. An entire way of noticing the happiness in things.
Like singing in the car with your friends. And that friend that makes you feel so special when you’re around them. And making your bed in the morning. And turning on your twinkly lights before bed.
There are so many things in this world that feel the way the sun is, so bright, so warm, so brave, so persistent.
You just have to pause for a second, look into the sun, and let yourself notice them.
You have to notice the little things that let the light pour through, and run to them. The same way a kitten curls up in the 7 o’clock pool of sunlight on the kitchen floor.
Everything feels like sunshine even when it doesn’t.
Even when the clouds roll over, and there’s no light pouring in through the cracks. Even when you burn. Even when you’re healing. Even when you’re scared of losing sight after you stare into the sun.
I carry a warm little light with me these days. I’m healing, I can say that for certain, and I finally feel amazing again.
I try to share my warmth with every person I meet, even if they don’t deserve it, or maybe when they need it most. Because lots of people don’t feel it, even when it’s there.
And in that case, on days where you can’t find the sunshine, be the sunshine.
I remember one day specifically, I was driving with my dad in his truck, and I put the visor down to block the sun. He reached over and put it back up, and said, “you need a little sun on your skin.”
I don’t think I’ve put it down since. It’s just the feeling of absolute radiance. Warmth, and safety, good weather and happiness, laughing kids, basketballs bouncing in the driveway, and now it feels so good I can’t bring myself to ever try and block it out.
My dad taught me that sometimes all you need is a little vitamin D. A dose of sunshine works wonders on an aching body and an aching soul. It heals. It brings a healthy glow onto your precious, winter skin, and it burns so so so slow. All day long it burns away.
Even if you get a sunburn you know? After a long day, you come inside and you see the marks it left on you. You put on cold Aloe Vera, sleep on your belly so not to irritate it, and eventually it heals.
The same thing works with us. We burn, and we burn and burn and burn, and after a while, we learn what works to heal and what doesn’t, and we get better at protecting ourselves from the next one.
I, too, am the sun. I heal. I burn.
There’s a moment, when you look into the sun, and your eyes just can’t take it anymore. Everything goes completely blank. I think us as humans need to (metaphorically, of course) just stare into the sun a little more often. Just let it take away everything. Give us a clean slate. A moment to notice everything around us.
Everything feels like sunshine even when it doesn’t.
Even on the thunder-iest days. Even in the night. Even with the curtains closed.
Because there are some small moments in life that show you that sunshine isn’t only a thing; it’s an entire feeling. An entire mood. An entire way of noticing the happiness in things.
Like singing in the car with your friends. And that friend that makes you feel so special when you’re around them. And making your bed in the morning. And turning on your twinkly lights before bed.
There are so many things in this world that feel the way the sun is, so bright, so warm, so brave, so persistent.
You just have to pause for a second, look into the sun, and let yourself notice them.
You have to notice the little things that let the light pour through, and run to them. The same way a kitten curls up in the 7 o’clock pool of sunlight on the kitchen floor.
Everything feels like sunshine even when it doesn’t.
Even when the clouds roll over, and there’s no light pouring in through the cracks. Even when you burn. Even when you’re healing. Even when you’re scared of losing sight after you stare into the sun.
I carry a warm little light with me these days. I’m healing, I can say that for certain, and I finally feel amazing again.
I try to share my warmth with every person I meet, even if they don’t deserve it, or maybe when they need it most. Because lots of people don’t feel it, even when it’s there.
And in that case, on days where you can’t find the sunshine, be the sunshine.
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