Seven days of driving
1310 miles.
Cumulus, stratus, cirrus.
Gray, fluffy, angry, pensive, hopeful.
Clouds are depressing and gray. Hope and possibility. Memories of being amazed at the shape of a cloud as it morphed from one picture to another. The floating and weightlessness of a cloud can quickly change to the heavy gray clouds that are sadness and hopelessness.
This ode to clouds spoke to my travels through this hip journey of mine! There were moments of downpour and moments that there were no limits to the "shapes" of my hope or perspective. Clouds move to and fro with the whimsy of the wind - the wind called Positive or Negative. Bad thoughts about recovery or hopeful thoughts dictated whether I trekked to the sun or plunged to the earth. Just as there are limitless shapes to clouds, there are limitless shapes of Hope as long as your wind is named Positive.
Go search for the cloud of Hope that will your shape your recovery. Float high. Paint the image you want to see!