My Panacea

I see the sunset through my rough-cut piece of wood. But to understand what I visualise I'll explain why I see a sense of calm in it.

I focus when I see it. It means a lot to me. I don’t know if there’s a single part of it that captures my mood. Previously, I preferred sunrises as I'm naturally a morning person. Yet, society has made me more a night owl, so I see less sunrises and more sunsets. Then I catch the beauty of them. And they’ve helped me through sad times and opened my eyes to the fact that I’m on this earth and I’m present in this moment.

As the day draws to a close, I easily connect to the colours of the evening sky. I find that the gradation of the colours in the sky, matches my internal dialogue. The whole day the sky is blue or greyish white or something in between and then at two times of the day, the sky's expression changes. It is able to completely change itself and open up and show all its heart.

Again, I used to be an early bird, so the sunrise meant a lot to me. I could look out my window and witness a sense of calm. I'd meditate in my room, looking out to a salmon-pink painted sky and plan out my day. I began to just become more in tune with nature around me. I slowed down and would appreciate the birds chirping in the morning, or the breeze caressing around my neck, or the sense of calm in the silence of my mind. I'd take this overview for my day ahead of me and help to give me confidence.

As I grew up, I ended up seeing more sunsets. Many sunsets impacted my life during negative moments. There was a time when I was struggling mentally, and I had to preserve. As strange as it seems, the sunsets kept me going. I felt them as watching over me and as a reset button for the day if I was quite down. The sunset would hear my conversation and help me slow down and calm down. I would wait until the next day and look forward to seeing the next sunrise. I'd soon pick out the tiny details within the skyline and learn how the clouds would influence this evening sunsets. It helped.

The sunset is something we can all experience. Sure, depending on where you live, we see different views of the sunset, obscured or not. Yet, for me a few years ago, I didn’t know what drew me to it. I became magnetically attracted to seeing the pastels strike across the skyline. Each sunset is different but similar and they aren’t guaranteed. They are also valuable to me because it only occurs for a short time of the day. They are limited.

The supporting parts of the sunset are the silhouettes and the clouds. The strawberry-coloured clouds that drift across creating shapes and catch the rays of sunshine as it begins to fall behind the horizon. Then as the sun falls lower and lower, I watch the clouds turn to a shade of grey and float on by, until the next sunrise. The silhouettes add minute details to the evening while contrasting the array of colours.

The emphasised sunset is almost like a second home for me. I could be within one and experience a singular minute in its aura. I can see it being a strange place, always moving and rotating away. I'd be able to see the world from up high and then say bye as I come down low past my home.

So, when I look out from my window today. I cut some wood and created a lens for me to see the sunset. I could've taken it with trees and bushes as a silhouette, but I wanted to focus on the bare sunset without its friends. These days, I focus on its wonder and magic and end up thanking it. I think of the things I am grateful for in the day and in turn, try to do good now my mind is clearer. I'm pretty happy I can relax at a sunset and enjoy it in the present, but it took a little while to get here. They've seen me through me at my worst and I want to give them my best as they are born to each night's sky. My panacea is the sunset. And that's what I see, my history and future and the present.