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Look, there's something deeply profound in appreciating the simple beauties of life that are always happening around us. It's easy to get caught up endlessly analyzing the human mind and heart, searching for some transcendent meaning in the experience of consciousness itself. And don't get me wrong, there's value in that endeavor - understanding ourselves and our fellow humans is part of being awake and alive on this planet.
But we have to be careful not to become so myopically focused on the mysteries of human existence that we neglect to actually live in and appreciate the reality we currently inhabit. The natural world surrounds us at all times with constant little miracles and marvels, if we'd only take our eyes off the narrow secularized pursuit of happiness through naval-gazing and nihilistic ideation and look at what's right in front of us.
Think about a sunset. The cosmic ballet of light and atmosphere that it is. The gradients of color, constantly shifting. The brilliance giving way to darkness as the sphere of the Earth turns. It's arguably the most mundane occurrence in the world - a sunset happens every 24 hours, for as long as there has been a sun and a planet orbiting it. And yet each one is different, unique, something never to be perfectly recreated. For those with eyes to see, it's endlessly amazing.
Or a thunderstorm. The atmospheric discharge of built-up energy. The low grumbles of thunder cells colliding and providing that primordial, adrenaline-tinged music of power. The fractal branching of lighting shooting across the sky. The onslaught of heavy rainfall. There's something revitalizing about a good thunderstorm - as if the air is being washed clean of staleness and rebirth is occurring. How easily we take it for granted as a commonplace nuisance.
Even just the smell of soil after a warm rain. The distinctive earthy, musty scent that lends a sense of reality and groundedness to the world. A baby newborn to the world knows nothing but that scent at first, like a tether to the protections of the womb. We've insulted our sense of smell so much as a society that we've become nosed-blind to the simple beauty of enabled by that sense.
The light sky. The inky blackness covering the planet in a blanket of mystery. Except for the constant, unwavering lights of the stars - guardians in their multitude twinkling away, some already winked out and we just don't know it yet. The moon cycling through its phases in and out of brightness. The swirling, creeping clouds that seem to be concealing something much vaster than our comprehension can handle. Few people ever stop to look up nowadays - but those who do drink in a humbling recognition of how small our daily concerns are in the scale of things.
We live in a world increasingly dominated by the practical and technological. By screens and multimedia and endless urgent tasks. By bustling haste and constant connectivity, but decreasing presence. And it's understandable - that's what has allowed our unparalleled material success and innovation as a species. Efficiency, progress, problem-solving - these are the values most rewarded in the environments we've built.
But none of that mania really matters at all if we've neglected the foundations of what makes life worth living in the first place. We have to reconnect with the simple joys and beauties that don't require any effort or intervention from us. The sunsets, the thunderstorms, the night sky, the smell of earth. The childlike awe of experiencing the natural world. Because if we're just these husks obsessed with productivity and problem-solving, but we've gone blind to the miracles surrounding us every moment...then what's the point? We've missed everything important.
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