Renewal is a funny thing. It’s different for everyone, I suppose; the way we recharge, find strength, move forward. For some people it can take a weekend or a full-on vacation to feel completely rested. For others, it can be as simple as a small little ray of light…
I was reminded of this today by a link someone shared to the well-loved Beatles song celebrating the sun. I’ve long had a fondness for that tune. I often sing it to my daughter at bedtime, and it frequently pops into my head as I leave my office for the day, oddly enough. Because of the juxtaposition of the entrance of my building to the sky, when I leave every evening I find that I am walking towards the sun. This wasn’t always the case; I previously left on the opposite side of campus, where I would exit away from it. You wouldn’t think that the simple shift of turning towards daylight to end long hours of toiling behind a computer would make such a difference (wouldn’t the act of leaving, alone, be enough?). But I will tell you, it’s really somewhat monumental. For me, it evokes a feeling of peace – freedom, almost. Not because I’m leaving for the day, but more because I am heading into brightness. It’s as if the act of walking towards that brilliant glowing life force in the sky somehow reaffirms that I am, indeed, also alive.
I suppose it’s similar to the feeling of renewal every morning when the sun first rises on a new day, reminding us that we have another chance for new experiences, new choices. Or the way, after grief and loss (marked in their similarity to the darkness of a storm) the rising of the sun helps us to believe that our world is not ending; life will continue, and we can truly move forward because there is proof in the cycle of the light shining above. That singular radiance also uniquely reflects our joy and capacity to embrace life, as I am so often reminded when my daughter simply tilts her head back under the sunshine and laughs, happy just to be outside.
That unmistakable golden glow…it means different things to everyone. But for me, it is a luminous reminder of renewal and strength.
“…it’s all right.” Indeed.