As my body slowly starts to readjust to east coast time, I woke up before the sunrise today.
I was still feeling rather cold and sleepy and listed the pros and cons in my head of getting up to watch the sunrise, just like I used to in high school on good mornings.
“Urgent, important: sunrise. Not urgent, important: staying under the covers.”
So I grumbled a bit, and I slowly got up from bed, make a quick cup of coffee, and drove to the highest hill in my neighborhood.
But being the non-astronomer that I am (and still a little sleepy), I quickly noticed that driving to the highest hill didn’t mean the best view of the sunrise– I was actually driving away from the sunrise.
Quickly restrategizing, I drove back downhill. Too stubborn to take out my iPhone compass, I drove toward the light, where all the colors in the sky began to form as the sun gently peaked over the mountains.
It brought me back home.
I wasn’t on the highest hill, but it was the best view in the time I had left. And it was pretty glorious.
This made me think of– everything.
For quite sometime, I wanted to separate myself from old circles of friends, bad haircuts of Christmas past, and all things that didn’t fit in with the life I wanted– a life surpassing even my own expectations. But perhaps there comes a certain point when it’s “urgent and important” to come home and see the value in the familiar. To acknowledge my roots, no matter how much it makes me cringe. To live in my present, get excited for my future, and honor my past. I’m not a very “present” person all the time. I daydream and get nostalgic almost to a fault. But perhaps that’s okay– I’m just learning to balance the fluidity of recognizing my past, present, and future all at the same time.