I relish the moment I shut the light off on my nightstand and am left with the open sky. It is endless through my bedroom window. Clouds move swiftly, planes even more so. An exhale, a pause, a moment to let the day go.
In the morning, I have time to stare out my window and watch the day go by. It quiets my racing mind and brings me back to my breath. I chase sunspots through the afternoon when bright rays heat up my comforter.
And then the sun dips below the horizon and rays shoot across the sky. Shades of pink, purple and orange on pillowy clouds: blue turns pastel, brushstrokes take over.
My fifth-floor, corner apartment is flanked with southwest-facing windows—portals to the limitless horizon. They allow me to stretch beyond these four walls, this neighborhood, this city. They whisper that I, too, am limitless.
I’m grateful to my past self for saying ‘yes’ to me. I gave myself the gift of time freedom: to appreciate the open sky and bear witness to its changing patterns.
The sunset reminds me of this daily. And the stillness of the night sky reassures me that I get to do it all over again tomorrow.