I live in an area that gets foggy. Not San Francisco fog. Central Valley Tule fog that hovers above the ground, blocking the sun from reaching the earth. Sometimes for a few hours. Sometimes for days. Weeks even.
The fog starts in November, continuing sporadically until about March. Something about damp ground, sunshine during the day, then the fog appears. It’s often patchy. I’ve left my house in the sunshine, driven five miles only to be greeted with a wall of white. And the opposite is equally likely. If you’ve gone days with no sun, you can drive a half hour into the mountains to get above it, or a couple of hours west to the coast. It’s not like we’re held captive by the fog.
Someone commented to me recently that they were hating being here in the gray damp.
I know there are real maladies such as Seasonal Affective Disorder, that afflict people who need sunlight and vitamin D and they feel depressed. Those symptoms usually take several weeks to accumulate.
But, I don’t want to be the kind of person whose outlook is dependent on my circumstances. The kind of person who believes:
- If only the sun is out, I can smile.
- If only the sun is out, I can sing.
- If only the sun is out, I can be happy.
- If only the sun is out, I can write.
- If only the sun is out, I can go for a walk.
I’m blessed to be able to do those things no matter what the weather. I can choose to live in the gray or I can take the sunshine with me.
Sure, sometimes I get tired of the mist and drab. But I don’t have to let it dictate if I’m going to have a good day. Bad things happen on bright days, just like good things happen on dark days.
I want to live as if the sun is out today.