Dear Sun,
I wanted to take a moment to write you today and say thanks for being what you are to me personally and to the galaxy at large. You've always been so very warm to me; a real comfort. And need I even mention your brilliance? We all know how much light you've shed on our individual problems.
I found work this week. I am driving back and forth to Indy every day to earn little money for my family. In so doing, I have been home a little less and the kids are starting to really miss me. By the time I roll in at night, they're visiting the sandman, so I have to wait until morning to get my smothering portion of adoration. That's actually part of the reason that I'm writing to you, Sun.
I have really started to notice, each new morning presents an elevated challenge as I try to pull away and hit the open road. My children are individually more upset with my departure with every passing day. This morning, Sammy may as well have ripped my heart from my chest and walked across it in golf shoes.
It's the gravity that I possess which has really made me appreciate you all the more. All of these planets and cosmic dust and undoubtedly stuff we've never heard of, constantly swarming and circling you... each one desperate for nearness. What I am finding is that the fatherhood I wield is apparently not so different from your celestial anchoring in my life. There's this profound dependency upon you that we all have at our core (monkeys and squirrels included).
Thank you, Sun. Thank you for being so good to me. Thanks for the example that you are. Thanks for being good company on those days when I am worshipped by the lesser beings.
In closing, I do have a tiny bit of advice for you that I am trying hard to implement into my life. It seems that you, much like myself, could use a little work on this. I do realize that everything has its place. I know that, in order for all of the grandeur of the spinning and orbiting and whizzing to take place, things must be just-so. Please know that I do not underestimate the importance of that structure. I respect it as much at your scale as I do at mine. But, if you can consider my words for a moment, you might find a new level of living awaits you. The next time a planet or asteroid or UFO comes running up to you for a much needed hug... maybe you can turn down the heat, let go of your precious cosmology, and embrace the chaos with a great big hug. We all know how powerful you are. We all know that you're at the center of everything that we do. Just look at us out here circling madly around you if you have any doubt. But once in a while... just every now and then... why not break protocol and allow a tiny pair of arms to wrap around you in a display of love, far more spectacular than any constellation or shooting star. I think that you'll find, burning everything that comes your way is not the only way of living after all.
It will mean giving up some power. It will mean cooling off. Heck, the whole "solar system" thing might just fall to pieces. But at least you will have known love.
Thanks for your time, Sun. Have a great day!
From the center of another galaxy,
Luke Renner
