This morning I wrote my morning pages while sitting on a bench at the waterfront a block from my home. The sky was almost completely covered in clouds. Near the southern tip of Manhattan the clouds were white. Over the Empire State Building they were light gray. But in between the sky was so dark that when they reflected off the Hudson River it looked like a big black hole.

Only a small patch of turquoise blue was visible in the whole scene. It made me think of the book I’m reading — A Return To Love by Marianne Williamson. There’s a part where she talks about the sky and clouds:

A spiritual teacher from India once pointed out that there is no such thing as a gray sky. The sky is always blue. Sometimes, however, gray clouds come and cover the blue sky. We then think the sky is gray. It is the same with our minds. We’re always perfect. We can’t not be. Our fearful patterns, our dysfunctional habits, take hold within our minds and cover our perfection. Temporarily. That is all … There has never been a storm that hasn’t passed. Gray clouds never last forever. The blue sky does.

Sweet perspective.