Sunset is a mood for me. It instantly sparks positivity when I catch sight of the warm light outside. I have this giddy feeling to go out and savor those few moments of beauty. It has been my hobby, especially in April and May. It’s undeniably an art itself — ever-changing, naturally breathtaking.
As the sun descends, the sky is painted with colors that dance, sometimes as striking as orange and red, or as pleasant as yellow and pink. It makes me wonder how marvelous the hands that did this, and I momentarily forget about life’s depressing complexities. It’s a love song to the senses, it’s timeless and iconic. It’s a classic reminder that profound joy can be found in the simplest moments.
My life has been half-hearted recently. I mostly find myself spiraling emotionally from being a responsible adult to someone so nonchalant and unstable. I thought I was tired. But I am still tired. The exhaustion is not done yet. Is it a mental illness or is my mind playing tricks on me? I always find myself wondering if I have been truly beneficial to the people that surround me, or if my existence has been beneficial to them.
I hurt the people who are dear to me with my attachment issues and my constant need for connectivity. The desperate need to consume an endless stream of information about the ongoing chaos in the world right now, and the reality that humanity again has failed drained the remaining warmth from my soul. These things pulled me out mentally from the natural world.
My faith crisis and frustrations as a church organist are clashing inside me. It has diminished my patience and I became less interested in the things that slowly unfold, like the sky’s changing hues as each day comes to an end.
The sunset became a mere background to my unimportant notifications and unmet deadlines. I have been so focused on the screens that I no longer notice the subtle 5 PM sun rays peeking from the leaves of the manzanita tree in our front yard. The financial burdens and responsibilities made me feel overwhelmed, it had left me no room for leisure and the pursuit of simple joys.
I miss the self-sufficiency that nature has provided me.
I miss the joy of appreciating the essence of what it means to be alive.
