This commentary has been modified and is a repost of July 2014.
Bundles of cotton candy secured in the atmosphere with push-pins, soundless parachutes, dreamy steamy cream puffs, mountains of pearls, an elevated ocean of emotional umbrellas, a distant cosmic sanctuary – these are many of the charismatic sentiments I refer to when I speak of clouds throughout many of my memoirs.
On any given day we can look up to the clouds to determine the forecast ahead, navigate our daily travel plans, or simply seek the deeply rooted sensation we know as clarity. These clouds of consciousness help to guide us, advise us, and move us along on the journey. When the clouds are clear, we can assume that a day of beauty is sitting on the bench, awaiting our arrival. However, when the clouds convert to gloom we assume that a storm is on its way. No matter where we are in the world, in some form or another, the clouds speak to us in every language. They tell us many things. They guide our intimate journeys and grant us hope.
The clouds, just as the ocean, fluctuate from their rise at dawn to their fall before dusk. Due to a season of storms arising, the light of their early morning smiles begin to wither into the noon and the probability of a downpour appears. We recognize these drizzles of distraction as rainstorms, though we realize the necessity of precipitation in order to see varied possibilities – from the cultivation of crops to the appreciation of rainbows – and in every order of life.
Like our potentials, clouds generate many shapes and sizes. Sometimes, we allow many of our greatest aspirations to rise and evaporate like the vapor in the sky, only to fill up our atmosphere with insecurities of discontent and uncertainty. Eventually, when we are able to condense these fears, our ability to create structure and comprehensibility form greater possibilities. Our existence on the earth is just as important as these countless ice crystals that float in the sky to aid the Earth’s weather.
We are much like clouds, rolling about like the thunder and traveling with the speed of the wind. At times, we illuminate the sky with our optimism and during deep twilight, such like polar mesospheric clouds. But on occasion, our pessimism causes us to fade away, like a noctilucent cloud. When we are courageous we stand tall like a band cloud, or shrink like a billow cloud when our faith is tested. When we are compassionate, nurturing and kind, we resemble the nacreous clouds, also often referred to as the Mother of Pearls. Whether we are visible or unseen, slow or fast, unmerciful or forgiving, gusty or clear, high or low – we are all clouds.
“It’s clouds’ illusions I recall, I really don’t know clouds at all,” expressed Canadian musician Joni Mitchell in her song Both Sides on her belief that life and love are equally amorphous.
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky,” wrote inspirational modern Bengali Poet Rabindranath Tagore in Stray Birds.
“Thirty-nine years of my life had passed before I understood that clouds were not my enemy; that they were beautiful, and that I needed them. I suppose this, for me, marked the beginning of wisdom. Life is short.” Iimani David refers to clouds as a source of wisdom.
Serbian poet, writer, essayist, philosopher, businessman, and former journalist Dejan Stojanovic considers the cloud as a divine presence in his artistic book From The Sun Watches the Sun.
“Your cloud changed substance, never existence. You were just curious for something else, something of unusual formations,” sang UK recording artist, singer, and songwriter Scott McGoldrick, who speaks of clouds as a lover.
Author D. Antoinette Foy penned, “I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes.”
Like the position of the clouds, our point of view becomes our position in the world. The clouds of June bring us meaningful contributions. June is the sixth calendar month of the year, and one that brings us to a fork in the road of reconstruction. The year of 2015 is half past; where do we go from here?
This season, replace confusion with clarity. Allow the oceans, lakes, rivers, ponds, seas, and streams to be your conscious friends. After all, without them, your cloud of clarity cannot be formed – nor manifested. Seemingly, one cloud relies on another. The forecast may be predicting a chance of rain with high humidity and partly cloudy skies, however, the atmosphere is waiting for your position.
Tuesday Morning Love ™ 
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