I Watched the Sunrise Today
I watched the sunrise today and I had some thoughts…
It was beautiful on its own. I can never take away from that.
And I wonder how many people would take the three minutes it took to stand still from glow to full reveal?
What stuck out to me was that the sun didn’t rise where I thought it would.
The light from the sun was reflecting just atop Mt. Hood, and I kept thinking, It’s impossible for the sun to rise from Mt. Hood again.
I had just witnessed that spectacular event and taken a picture a little over a week ago.
One of my fellow regular walkers told me he’s been trying to capture that moment for years. He even has an alarm set to remind him, Today’s probably the day the sun will rise directly from Mt. Hood from our viewpoint.
But, he said, he always seems to forget or thinks he can get in one more lap.
And just misses it.
So, as I stood there with two panting dogs, Moon’s leash wrapped around my leg, I spontaneously started filming.
My foot was crooked in such a weird position that about two minutes in I had to adjust it, causing the video to jump.
But I got her.
From breaking the horizon to clearing it.
And she was breathtaking.
This past week, I’ve been reminded again and again how quickly life can change.
I’ve been trusted with tender conversations about uncertainty, fear, love, grief, and what comes next.
And still the sun rises.
Life continues living.
Even as a life is ending, there is still life being lived. There may still be love to give, words aching to be spoken, a hand to hold, something beautiful to notice, and grief for everything we are going to leave behind.
I haven’t stood at the edge of my own final breaths. I don’t know what I will feel when I do.
But I pray I will still be interested in what there is to experience while I am here.
I wonder how many of us start our days wondering what could happen with great anticipation rather than predicting what’s going to happen with tremendous fear.
I have never been somebody who tells the beauties I work with to suck it up and think positive.
That’s not the way I operate.
It’s not how I face challenges.
I am not Miss Positivity.
I am love.
I am true.
I am here.
Pain, fear, uncertainty—they can dim our inner light.
But they don’t take it.
I do invite you to ask:
What else is happening?
Not instead of reckoning with your decision, your commitment, your problem.
Alongside it.
I’m not minimizing what hurts.
But what else is also true?
Is Timmy a kind and loving human who carries some of your influence?
Did a robin perch on the fence and sing you a little song?
Did something from the way-back machine suddenly remind you how precious life is?
Maybe you read something that told you the best is yet to come?
Okay, that last one is a sign I have in my Halloween room.
Yes.
It’s Halloween 365.
I curated the room last year when we decided to move back into our home after having it on the market for the summer.
But I have to tell you a secret I haven’t told anybody else.
I don’t like having Halloween 24/7, 365.
There. I said it.
It takes some of the sweetness away. The magic. The mystery. The joy of the season.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m still getting very excited. We’re closing in on September, and September 1 starts October Eve for me.
But I think I want to go back to anticipating Halloween.
And I kinda want to go back to that sign.
The best is yet to come.
I used that phrase back in 2010 when I was coaching women around health and wellness, not alcohol specifically. I shared it in a group, they really loved the phrase, and I stuck with it for a while.
But the truth is, the best might not be yet to come.
And yet, imagine how dreadful life would become if we stopped anticipating that anything could ever get better.
That’s incredibly sad to me.
It’s kind of like not anticipating Halloween.
Maybe better feels like far too large a leap sometimes.
So what if instead we simply asked:
I wonder what could happen today?
What could I experience that I’ve never tried?
Where have I never visited that’s always piqued my curiosity?
Who do I enjoy watching on social media who lives nearby but I’ve never met in real life?
I wonder if they’d like to have coffee.
I wonder if I should give poetry, songwriting, or pottery a try?
My grandmother has always intrigued me. Maybe I could write her story.
I don’t know much about Aunt Betty. I wonder how she’d tell her story when she was just fifteen years old.
These are threads.
Threads that can keep us engaged with the magic, mystery, curiosity, and wonder in our lives.
And sometimes we learn something simply because we tried something.
Like Halloween 365.
I’ve discovered some things aren’t meant to last.
They lose their charm.
So this year, when I pack up Halloween, I will pack up all of Halloween.
Well…
I might leave out a pumpkin or two.
And the witch hat on top of my entertainment center where it’s been perched since I bought it.
But the Halloween room will be no longer.
It’s fascinating how much information becomes available to us when we try things.
We don’t have to stick to who we’ve always been.
Style.
Beliefs.
Relationships.
Habits.
Halloween rooms.
We can receive the information and choose again.
Maybe it’s time to wonder…
What else?
I know the sun will continue moving to the right of Mt. Hood until spring.
Would it be as breathtaking if it always rose in exactly the same spot?
My fellow walker friend, the one who keeps setting his alarm to catch that elusive event, missed it again.
But he still paused.
He took a picture.
And he had a pleasant conversation with a stranger we’d only ever said good morning to in passing before.
He didn’t capture the moment he’d been waiting for.
But something else happened.
Life continued living.
And I wonder what else happened today.
