El Sol No Se Tapa Con Un Dedo

You Can’t Cover The Sun With One Finger

Out of all the dichos I’ve ever heard, el sol no se tapa con un dedo, has always been the easiest for me to understand.  Not that I haven’t tried my damndest to cover up that metaphorical sun on so, so many different occasions.  But somewhere deep down inside of me, like the unyielding passage of time, that tiny voice in my head has always taunted me in the faintest of tones: el sol no se tapa con un dedo…you can’t cover the sun with one finger. 

I’ve wanted to tell it to shut up countless times, and a few of them I’ve done so successfully, but eventually it starts up again.  El sol no se tapa con un dedo.  El sol no se tapa con un dedo.  El sol no se tapa con un dedo.  Then I have to face reality, evaluate my situation seriously, and endure the harshest of human conditions: being truly honest with oneself.  It is at this stage that raw emotion peeks its ugly head, be it in the form of anger, sadness, depression or just plain frustration.  I know the process well for I’ve undergone it many a times.  Still idling as a bystander on someone else’s grief is much more a difficult feat for me personally to withstand. 

With my reality I can manipulate and coerce my state of mind.  With another I can only offer guidance and support hoping that it will lead to the right action.  When it does the sensation of a lifted burden is alleviating.  When it doesn’t the looming pain of hopelessness sets in, bringing with it an infuriated storm of agonizing worries.  All the while that taunting voice continues: el sol no se tapa con un dedo, el sol no se tapa con un dedo, el sol no se tapa con un dedo.

And in fact you can’t.  Yes, placed at a correct angle the single finger can cover up the sun, anyone of them from the pinky to the thumb, but one nervous breathe or shiver and the burning presence of that ball of fire will once again be seen.  Our reality is the same.  No matter how hard we work to convince ourselves that something is right when we know it’s wrong we can never fully swallow our own lies.

As for others, I’m beginning to assimilate into the philosophy that so many out there have medicated for my males de amores over the years: In every relationship and interaction we engage in we are either planting, watering, fertilizing or harvesting.  We rarely get to enjoy the fruits of our labors, but that is not the point.  Our main objective is to understand and appreciate the process.