The Sunrise Walks
Dawn Reflections
Over the past few days, I’ve been chasing the sunrise. Sunrises, sunsets, and starry night sky have always been among my favorite things. And I find they usually inspire some kind of reflection. I stumble across analogies to the human condition. I’ve been fortunate to have a few muses in my life, and the sunrise is one of them.
If you can’t beat them, join them
I’ve been waking up before dawn for months now, and not on purpose. It doesn’t seem to matter what time I go to bed, what’s on my mind, or what’s going on that day. I can’t stay asleep. Most of the time, I do a little writing. These blogs are often published, or the rough drafts written at least, before 6:00 am. During the school year, that means by the time I’m finished writing, it’s about time to go to work.
I get to work a lot earlier than I need to, regardless of what time I get up. It’s my quiet time. I guess, though I hate to admit it, I might be a morning person. That doesn’t mean I want to have a conversation before I’ve had a few cups of coffee, but the early hours seem to be where I find my peace.
I’ve been out of school for three weeks now. So, I can write first thing in the morning, but then what? It’s frustrating to be up that early when you don’t have to be. Try as I might, there’s no falling back asleep and unless I have an inspiration to write, I find mindless ways to keep busy.
Then it hit me. I’ve been taking walks lately. It’s another way I clear my head and another place I find peace, or at least time for reflection. I go to the park, put my headphones on, and stroll. If I’m going to be up this early, why not take those walks and watch the sunrise?
Making the Choice
In a previous blog, I talked about choices we can make to fight anxiety. One of those choices is focusing on the positive. Here, it was more about turning a negative into a positive. I could wake up and moan about the early hour, lament the pre-dawn malaise, and wish I could go back to sleep. I could open the coloring app on my phone and listen to an audiobook. That’s the routine before I close my eyes at night. It might as well be how I start the day.
But the sunrise… It sounds like trite wisdom-often true wisdom does-but turning a negative into a positive is powerful. Now, I know not we can’t turn all negatives around. Some things are just hard, just ugly or painful. But we can look for opportunities. The maxim of problems being opportunities for growth, change, or innovation makes me cringe a little. As I said, I think some problems are just problems. However, maybe there is some angle, some part of the issue we can use to our advantage.
Four am is too early to be up if I don’t have to be, but I can see the sun rise.
Finding the Colors
This morning, I went to a different park than the one I usually visit. I arrived a half an hour before astronomical sunrise and oriented myself to be facing east when the time came.
The sky grew lighter; a soft blue replacing the darkness. But even as the blue took over, there wasn’t a single brushstroke of color. I walked around the loop a couple more times, double checking that I was looking for it in the right direction. I went off the path to make sure I had a clear view of the horizon, unhindered by the treeline. Still nothing.
It was frustrating. Up early and in a location I thought would provide better views than those I’d had the day before, and not a single pink or purple splash to be seen anywhere. I’d have to wait until tomorrow and see if I had any better luck. I’d find another location. Maybe I’d try again at sunset. That wouldn’t satisfy the point of taking the dawn stroll, but I’d find my color.
It occurred to me that if I wanted color in my day and didn’t find it in the sunrise, I’d have to find it elsewhere. And maybe we could all use a little practice finding our color. What can we find in our daily lives that adds a splash of inspiration, peace, reflection, excitement, or joy? Where can we find one of those “little things” or inject a little passion into something. It’s easy to let a mundane day pass; to allow it to be gray simply out of habit and routine. But if we yearn for something more, where can find the color?
Acceptance
I’m driving home from my morning walk and I glimpse just a hint of color out of the corner of my eye. It makes me smile to know I’ve found a little. Noting the direction relative to where I’m driving, I can draw a mental map from where I am to where I might try again tomorrow.
I know for certain of a place I’ve seen spectacular sunrises; out the back door closest to my classroom. I could go to school; could walk around the old neighborhood and position myself near the playground and stand a pretty good chance of seeing the seeing what I want to see. But what teacher wants to walk around school when they don’t have to be there? It’s June. It shouldn’t even be legal to find myself on school grounds, much less at 5:30 in the morning.
Where else might I go? I’m pulling up the driveway to my apartment and I realize something. There is a reasonably unobstructed view from the front porch. It’s not perfect, but I could sit on that porch and see something of the sunrise. And then that funny feeling I’ve just stumbled onto something strikes me.
It wouldn’t be the walk I want to take. I’d probably still find my way to the park at some point, but what if the best place to watch the sunrise is right where I am? A cup of coffee could improve it, or the company of a loved one. And the view isn’t perfect or a unique location, but maybe that isn’t the point. Maybe what I need is right here. As if to illustrate the point, when I started writing this blog, the Rolling Stones “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” shuffled to the top on my playlist.
“You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
Mick Jagger and Keith Richards
Dreams and Tomorrows
I’m embarrassed to say as I thought about starting this paragraph the treacly lyric from “Annie” ran through my mind. “The sun will come out tomorrow…”
But it’s a fact. Maybe there won’t be a visible sunrise. Maybe there will be dark stormy skies. It could be overcast. You’ll have to find your color another way, and there will be another tomorrow. Maybe it will be a colorless day. It’s bound to happen. I’m aiming for positivity and optimism, but I’m not naïve enough to believe that we can turn every frown upside down. I know we can’t wrestle every day into peace, comfort, and joy. But we can look for it.
It’s hard to believe that every day is a blessing when so many of them can feel like anything but, but ask someone who has survived a life-threatening illness. Ask someone who’s lost a loved one. Ask someone who has experienced life-changing trauma. Tomorrows aren’t a guaranteed.
I have dreams of places I’d like to see the sunrise and people I’d like to share it with. I have beautiful mental images of picturesque places, quiet moments, shared experiences. Some of them are currently out of reach. It would be easy to lament their present inaccessibility. But I can set goals. I can try to find ways to paint those mental images into my reality. And I can be grateful for the day I have now and another chance to see the sunrise.
You can find companion videos, and some nice shots of sunrises, on my TikTok feed.
Phillip Davis is the author of Peppermint Lightning, Jack-o-’Lightning, and Justice for the Missing. (Sequel coming in 2023!) He is also an elementary school teacher and mental-health advocate. He writes on the topics of writing, mental health, and self improvement.
Originally published at https://peppermintlightning.press on June 22, 2023.
