A Letter to the Sun
I think most people would think I’m actually writing to my son - a child of mine.
I have no such son, but I do have you - THE Sun.
As I write to you right now, your rays are beaming through my front door. I never used to keep my front door open. Then I got my dog, Egon (the closest being to a son that I have), and he loves sitting out on the porch. But he also loves seeing me. After being tired of incessantly opening and closing the door for him, I bought a magnetic screen for the door and now leave the door open. Egon usually lies across the threshold of the door. That’s where he is now, asleep in your rays.
I tell you all this because I now get even more time to commune with you in the early hours of the morning… when I can still appreciate you. By 10am the temperature is approaching 100 and I’m hiding from your direct rays.
Isn’t it funny how something you love so much has the potential to harm you?
How do you feel about that? What’s it like to know your rays can cause cancer? What did you think when they dug skin cancer out of my breast?
I thought it was a really funny place for it though, because you never get to see my breast either.
I wonder how many things are blamed on you, when it’s far more complex than that. For instance, we automatically think of you when it is horribly hot outside. And yet, our actions here have depleted the ozone, caused changes in the environment’s systems, and more.
Do you feel powerless up there? You’re probably the most powerful daily presence in our lives, and yet there is so little you can do as you gaze down on us.
I feel powerless too sometimes. Like when they found the skin cancer. Of course they didn’t even use that word. It was far more scientific and murky at the same time. Yeah, unknowns make me feel powerless. And while I did have the power to choose to have skin removed from me or not, I didn’t like the set of choices presented to me.
Do you even get choices? You’re just there, doing your thing. Being. Maybe you’re actually really zen for that reason. What do you think?
Could we schedule a time to talk? I clearly have a lot of questions and it’d probably be better if we talked about them in person. I know I have the tendency to inundate others in questions, but I’ll do my best to allow space for you to ask me stuff, too. Make it less of an interrogation.
For I really would like to be better friends with you. You’re already in my life so consistently, it’d probably be better if we knew each other more.
Lemme know when is good for you.
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