Postcard is a weekly curation of things I think are beautiful or interesting. Each postcard will be named after a word and contain something to listen to, something to look at, and something to think about. I welcome you to share any thoughts in the comments. Thank you!
sunset:
(n.) The moment each evening when the sun disappears below the western horizon.
(n.) The changes in color of the sky before and after sunset.
(n.) (figuratively) The final period of the life of a person or thing.
(n.) (attributively) A set termination date.
The region where the sun sets; the west.
†Meanings from Wiktionary
Something to listen to:
“sanctuary ship” - Samurai Champloo Music Record: Impression by Nujabes
kick back feet up heart open mind clear go go go
Something to look at:
Something to think about:
Every day, there is a sunrise and every day, there is a sunset. Isn’t that a remarkably consistent and powerful truth? And like many consistent and powerful truths, its consistency and its power makes it easy to take for granted.
When we are given something repeatedly, it can easily shift from its true nature (a gift) into something else: an expectation.
Hmmmm…
I have many thoughts about sunsets, actually.
The first is that every sunset, God invents exactly one (1) brand new color, a special reward to be injected straight into the spirits of those who are consistent and careful observers.
The second is that I have never regretted taking—making—the time to watch a sunset. This is one of those things in life that is just plain good for the soul. Inherently nourishing. I’m going to repeat that. Inherently nourishing. It’s so very good to pay attention to the things in life that are inherently nourishing.
I’ll add that I don’t think we were created with the intent of worshiping our own efficiency, or our own cleverness, chasing rapture in the intrepidness of our ways. No, I think we were created to worship what is beyond the Self. The natural world invites us to worship it with the pulsing love of our attention. Sunsets are a sacred opportunity to do exactly that.
The third thought I have is that each sunset marks a transitional period, delineating between day and night, between energetic wakefulness and restorative slumber. It’s good to notice such periods, or perhaps rather than notice (which starts to sound a little mentally exhausting on an extended basis), be aware of. Yes, it’s good to be aware of the transitional periods in our lives; be they daily, monthly, seasonal; be they solar or lunar, masculine or feminine, man-made or naturally occurring. It is good to be aware.
The fourth thought is a bit vulgar. I’d love to have sex while her and I are both watching the sunset someday. The right positions could facilitate this nicely.
(Yeah, I think this just made my bucket list, matter of fact.)
The fifth thought is that the majesty of each sunset is a collaboration between the sun and its divine fire, the clouds and their wispy hearts, the mighty wind, keeping everything in motion, keeping everything on time, and a trillion other tiny-huge miracles that—just as fast as you can comprehend them—will softly hit your spirit like BB bullets. Don’t sleep on what’s at work here. And consider the truth that this collaboration working so beautifully is an invitation for us to be more collaborative with each other, too. We can go places alone, sure, but we’ll go farther together.
The sixth thought about sunsets is that it is a parting, a farewell, the kind that is made easier by our faith that what we are saying goodbye to will return reliably the next morning. What if that doesn’t happen one day? What if the sun sets and… never comes back? How would you feel to have taken the significance of that parting for granted?
The seventh thought about sunsets is that they are good alone, but so, SO much sweeter together. Let’s all be sure to share a sunset with someone we love, or a friendly stranger, soon.
I think this will be good for the world.
