Running Toward the Morning Sun

Just like bright sunlight, we can choose our perspective on how we see experiences in our lives. We can grit our teeth and simply endure moments in the hopes of future moments that we believe we will enjoy better. Or we can tap into the goodness of the moments we are already living as fully and as hopefully as we can. The actually setting might not change, but we can choose how we experience it.

I try to go running most mornings. It gives me a good reason to get out of bed early before it starts warming up, it offers a chance for me to do something good for my body, and a chance to run around my neighborhood which has a unique flavor. So I hit the pavement this morning.

I typically run a large square route that loops me back to my house. But in the summer months, since I live in the northern stretches of the U.S., the sun rises directly in front of me. Most of way, my path is shaded by great trees and city buildings, but as I near the final stretches of my route, there’s a section where I am running facing the sun directly.

Most of the time when this happens, I squint and try to shield my eyes. I mean, I’ve been living in the Pacific Northwest long enough to have forgotten what true sunny morning are supposed to be like right? The myth isn’t quite true, but I would say that perhaps my body doesn’t embrace that big of doses of Vitamin D coming in all at once. But basically, I suffer through that section and then I’m very glad once I can duck under a building’s shadow again.

But this morning, I took a different approach. I tried to imagine how welcome a bright sunny morning would be to someone who had been stuck inside their house maybe because they were sick. I tapped into how it felt to be a kid on a summer’s morning that seemed to be absolutely bursting with potential.I honed in on the actual sensations of bright warmth and light and color that I got to experience.

And I can’t say that I was necessarily thrilled by that blinding sunlight, but that changed vantage point shifted those moments dramatically. Instead of just gritting my teeth and squinting in frustration, I was able to lean toward that brilliant sunlight and recognize the goodness that it really did bring.

Just like bright sunlight, we can choose our perspective on how we see experiences in our lives. We can grit our teeth and simply endure moments in the hopes of future moments that we believe we will enjoy better. Or we can tap into the goodness of the moments we are already living as fully and as hopefully as we can. The actually setting might not change, but we can choose how we experience it.