.a predictable blog about a sunset.

This past week I was in Arkansas visiting my family. My mom and I had to drive into Oklahoma to pick up Brett, Rachel and Aubrey from the airport. We happened to drive into the Sooner State at the most perfect time of day in Oklahoma…sunset. If you’ve been there, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Say what you want about Oklahoma, but there is something so sweet, so perfect, so lovely about sunsets over those expansive planes. Bursts of orange and pinks as far as your eye can see, an explosion of day into night. And as the sun quietly slips away past the horizon there is this instant of calming breathlessness…like the inhale right before an anticipated kiss, it’s invigorating and calming and unlike any other breath taken that day. In this moment of breathlessness everything freezes, silently and expectantly life stops..for a moment. Paused for beauty. And as you stare west you feel as if this extraordinary second was just for you and the rest of the world fades into a blur. Then it’s over…not disappointingly, although you wish you could exist in that colorful moment forever…night comes with it’s own treasures and hidden secrets…but you remember that moment, tucked away and fondly treasured.

I just cried. All of this evoked so many emotions. I love looking back…but it’s hard, it’s hard because it was so very good, but back then I could only dream of what was ahead. I cried because I missed that life, I missed my precious friends. I cried because I realized that there is probably so much to my life right now that I’m missing, that my eagerness for what is ahead and those days of sadness over what has gone by is depriving me of a deep gratitude for my life in this very moment What is it about our human condition that robs us of this very moment, right now, this season, this day, this time? Why are we constantly looking longingly ahead or regretfully behind? And how can we stop this? How do I live right now, fully present to this moment, fully existing and thriving and soaking up everything that is swiftly becoming yesterday.

And now I’m back in Denver and ready to crunch the leaves on the sidewalk outside my apartment on a slow and pleasant fall stroll…but my, that sunset was beautiful