Sometimes when I overwhelm myself – and let’s be honest only I can overwhelm me and I am really good at it – I just look at the sky. Ironically it grounds me. Maybe it’s the literal act of looking up. I could gaze at it for hours, getting lost in the speed of clouds and changing light.
For a whole year I posted a photo of the sky everyday on Facebook. I gave it different personalities that made glib and snarky comments. When I stopped, way more people noticed than I would have expected. People love the sky.
Every possibility, every wish, every desire is held by the sky.
On a dreary day recently I was riding with a friend who was mired in a case of the blues. The sky outside mirrored her mood; full of rolling white gray clouds with dark edges racing past one another. Then, for less than a minute there was a gap in the clouds that allowed the smallest, brightest blue patch to emerge. There was so much information revealed in that spot of sky.
This little patch of blue had a big story to tell.
I had been studying yoga – the philosophy every bit as much, or maybe more than, the postures – for several years. In yoga “pure consciousness” is a hot topic. It’s everything. The true self. One of my teachers describes it as capacity, like the sky. The sky allows clouds and airplanes and birds to pass through it without changing it. We, on our soul level, are like the sky.
This is a big concept to fathom. It is difficult to imagine the size of something without edges, without boundaries. The mind wants to put a limit on things. But like the sky, consciousness is limitless.
The clouds do not change the sky behind it. The smoke, smog and rain only temporarily cover the sky, but it is always there and always blue.
The true self, pure consciousness is always there, unchanged, unspoiled, perfect. It merely becomes hidden beneath fear, worry, anxiety, feelings and emotions, by the need to be right or seen, by the ego.
The tiny patch of blue sky tells my friend that the clouds of sadness are temporary. What it tells me is that there’s no need to become overwhelmed. The true self is always there, resting in awareness. Without edges.
[Photo: Taken this morning. At least six months after that gray day.]