When the skies turn grey, our minds tend to close in on themselves as an attempt to both provide cover for our fragile creative grey matter as well as a spiritual shield that helps us fast forward to the next sunny day, the next bright moment. The skies I'm talking about are both the physical and the metaphorical. The metaphorical being the darker moments that seem to weave in and out of the better moments during our journey upon Mother Earth. If we had no setbacks, no dips in our our good fortune, and no dull moments within the glistening sea of bliss, we would not have an accurate way to measure our successes. We would not have a reliable means to balance our joy against the temporary grain, and the value of our rejoicing would be lost.
