Sunshine hits my face and for a moment I feel like everything is right in the world.
“Girl, you better figure out your shit today. If you don’t, I’m bringing back the grey and rain.”
Excuse me? Who’s talking? There’s no one on the street except three people down the block waiting for the bus.
Like an idiot I answer the voice:
“I’m going for a walk and doing some self-reflection. Then I’ll be writing in my journal. Does that count?”
“No that doesn’t count! You gotta do more than self-reflect. And toss that damn unicorn journal. You’re lost. Your body is here, but your beautiful, vibrant essence is MIA. Find it. Life is short and frankly you’ve wasted a lot of it,”
“Alright, I get it. I’m on it. By the way, are you The Sun?” I ask the voice.
“Of course I’m The Sun, who else would I be?!”
For the love of God. I get one moment of lovely sunshine warming my face and now the actual sun is harassing me. Nice.
Staring at a tree whose pink buds are just starting to bloom, I suddenly feel like crying, but nothing happens.
Walking through the park I imagine myself twirling and dancing but I’m too self-conscious, even though there’s no one around. Wait, it’s a sunny day – why is there no one around?
“For the next half hour the park’s all yours, so use it!” The Sun bellows at me.
“Okayyyy!” I shout back.
I look around tentatively and then spread my arms wide and start twirling. Slowly, then faster, not whirling-dervish fast, but a joyful, awkward twirl like you might see in a Greta Gerwig film.
A 1980’s modern jazz move that I used to do in dance class pops into my head and soon I’m sailing through the air.
Oh I remember now. I remember this girl.
This girl had the kind of energy that drew people to her, she was an introverted extrovert. She needed days of solitude to recharge, but her energy force was electric and her light was dazzling. Not in an obnoxious way, but in a way that made others want to explore their own light.
This girl loved to laugh and she loved celebrating all of life’s beauty:
“I’ve never seen a coral Peony – my God it’s stunning!”
“Look at that handsome man wearing the 1940’s-style suit, how cool is he?!”
“Come here quick – check out the sunset. Can you believe those colors?!”
Oh yes – this girl – I know you!
I want you back. I’m so sorry I let you go. I’m so sorry I let people stomp on you. I’m so sorry I stopped believing in you.
But I’m here now and I want you to know that I’m grateful. For without you I’m just a shell of myself, like an oyster without a pearl.
I promise I won’t let anyone take you from me again.
I’ll twirl every day and leave a trail of sparkle behind me wherever I go. I will fall madly in love with myself and only those who encourage me to be radiant will be allowed in my sacred inner circle. And if anyone dares try to snuff you out again they will be sorry they ever met me.
I’m dancing for you right now – can you see me? It’s not a beautiful dance because I’m out of practice – but it’s all for you. I love you and I need you.
Please come back to me.
My entire body tingles and The Sun whispers in my ear:
“Good job girl, good job.”
I’m crying now, gorgeous gentle tears, that despite my anti-depressants have broken through. I feel like a 1960’s hippie who’s just experienced her first transcendental experience.
“Thank you,” I whisper to The Sun, “thank you.”
“The Sun Goddess,” an original painting by Wincy Xavier, At Saatchi Art.