Sunday’s Sun Daze

V.
6 min readApr 30

--

I love a good Sunday morning — the birds rejoice in the warmth of unapologetic rays, awaking me gently to a day of ease ahead.

Sundays remind me of all the simple things, remind me to slow down, and help me feel refreshed as I shed myself of the week prior in reflection.

This past week, I took a leap into seeking help for myself in the area[s] of my life that I’ve long struggled most, that being my mental and emotion wellbeing.

I was terrified and felt somewhat defeated.

Photo by Author

During my doctor’s visit, I was asked a series of questions that piled angst upon angst of sweaty feet and palms, a racing heart, and a bouncing leg. With tears in my eyes, I took deep breaths before answering each daunting question.

It was vulnerability that I’ve avoided my entire life. I’m fine or I’m just tired wasn’t going to cut it this time, though.

They were beyond kind and helpful when it came to making me feel more comfortable.

I’ve been wanting to take daily vitamins for a while now, but lacked the enthusiasm to apply myself to the means this end demanded; even though it was as simple as making time (a few seconds) to take the vitamins.

Since I’d be taking medication for my sanity now, I decided it was time for daily vitamins also.

I felt empowered — I was choosing something for my wellbeing and peace of mind in various ways.

I truly believe miracles happen every day and that each moment is filled with sparks of magic, but I also believe that we often forget that we, ourselves, can be the miracle itself.

Days leading up to my appointment, I was hesitant, upset, and confused.

Though, once I realized I had this choice and it was for good reason, everything felt lighter.

Learning to ask for help where we no longer have stamina is a miraculous gesture.

Choosing honesty is miraculous, chasing the dreams planted in your heart is miraculous, simply being kind regardless of how you feel is miraculous!!

I think we just forget how powerful we truly are.

Speaking of magical moments, I went to a butterfly exhibit yesterday.

I teared up…only this time it was from pure and profound joy.

Butterflies everywhere!! One even rested on my shoulder. I felt as a little kid on a field trip and it was the best day ever.

Photo by Author

For months, I’ve been searching for a book about butterflies, their names, wingspan, and all the good stuff. I just think it would be so awesome to see a butterfly float by on any given day and arbitrarily say things like, That was a Giant Swallowtail, very common in North America, and has a wingspan of up to six inches.

It’s like poetry.

I bought one yesterday at the greatest gift shop I’ve ever seen, along with an adorable Monarch pin.

Aside from attempting to remember various butterfly facts, I’ve been reading Slow by Brooke McAlary; a book about how to live simply in minimalism, externally and internally.

It’s fairly similar to another I’ve read recently, Soulful Simplicity, but Slow has more in depth on internal simplicity; it also has pictures, so it’s safe to say that I’m a fan.

In Soulful Simplicity, though, there is one part of the book that has stuck with me since reading.

The author, Courtney Carver, writes about how she had to attend a work event and brought her husband along. Carver was upset, tired, and did not want to go to the event.

At the event though, she was cheerful, enthusiastic, and bubbly as could be. Thereafter, she mentioned how her husband was asking her where all the energy came from. Carver writes of how she told him that she has to “show up” for her job…later on she’d thought to herself that her husband might’ve felt as if he wished she’d “show up” for him more often.

With my own journey towards simplicity, getting back to things that matter to me and frankly, back to myself, I’ve come to realize that I stopped “showing up” for my own life.

Veering from vulnerability was one way, but I feel as if it all began with my wardrobe choice.

Clean out my closet was one of the checklist items on my spring bucket list. As I did so, I realized I rarely wore a majority of the clothes in there. Throughout my daily life, I’d usually stick to a black graphic tee and soft-fitted bottoms.

I never strayed from what I was comfortable in. I stopped getting ready, I always wore my hair pulled back; in all honesty, most of the time I probably looked like I’d stayed in bed all day.

I hadn’t a care in the world.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to live nonchalantly and feel free spirited in “rogueness,” but somewhere between comfort and habit, curiosity and excitement becomes lost.

Whenever someone would invite me out, let’s say, to brunch, I had no desire.

I’d be wearing the same thing I’m already wearing just to spend $20+ on French toast that I can make at home? No, thanks, I’ll pass.

Photo by Author

Just as my clothing choice, my days became grey and dull. And just as a $20 French toast, I lost my appetite for life as well.

And it’s not as simple to say that I was lazy, I just truly didn’t care about anything anymore.

When I remembered Courtney Carver’s words as I cleaned out my filled closet of clothes that I never wore contrasted with a handful of pajamas I always wore, it woke me up.

I started buying clothes with various colors, patterns, styles, and anything that I always admired but was too comfortable to try out.

In all honesty, it’s still in the process of becoming because, well, I’ve also come to learn that not only am a picky eater, but I am also picky with my clothing choices.

But that’s ok! That only means I actually care about something! Yay for caring!

I also started using my Pinterest boards for inspiration instead of endless accumulation from mindless scrolling as a getaway from reality.

I started getting ready more often, too, or choosing something other than pajamas to leave the house in, even if it was just to go to the grocery store.

In turn, I’ve been more energized and ecstatic to spend time with others (to an extent); I never thought I’d say that in my entire life.

As they say (I don’t know who they are entirely, but probably some psychologists), action stimulates motivation.

The more I acted upon showing up for life, the more I felt the desire to, curiously and hungry for what’s to come.

Photo by Author

I love a good Sunday amidst enlightenment.

--

--

V.

art, poetry, beauty, travel, romance, love