…and the sun will rise

cue fitzgerald’s final gatsby line and you’ve already started wishin’ on a star that you were borne back ceaselessly into the past, too (and I mean if leo’s there you already know i’d have a streamliner headed straight for him).

I looked down at my shoes in the sand. my boots were covered in dust from walking down to where the waves calmly crashed. the sunrise was scheduled for 8:30am (yo, thanks weather app) and it was 8:27. honestly it’s probably the first time I’ve been on time/early for something possibly ever (shout out to fall semester – it’s not an absence if you still show up) (jk I love education).

it was really, really cold. the wind was blowin’ through my sweater like marilyn’s dress. I turned on my camera, but I opened my eyes.  


 I’ve always thought that some things are more worth losing sleep over than others. my travel-mate and I both woke up about 3am that morning because you know, jet lag and I aren’t exactly simpatico at the moment. and because all the best ideas come to a person at 3 in the morning, I thought, (indirect quote) “oh wow, gee wiz, y’all, I need to see the sunrise because I have seen it set” (more on that Circle of Life mindset if ya feel me, naaazabenya*).

jet lag also makes waking up at 3am less enjoyable for the parties involved, so we didn’t speak. I just sent him a photo of the time of the sunrise. he replied that we could if I wanted to, but there will always be a lot more sunrises to see (obviously groggy, the call to adventure strikes more like lightning to each person, especially for those strange hours between night and day).

I lay there in my tiny, squeaky bed that, yes, I possibly already spilled food on. with my one (void of fluffiness) pillow. listening resentfully to the world’s most annoying dog yapping in the distance (which for the record I’m not sure if it ever stopped or if I built an audio immunity). there will be a lot more sunrises. an endless amount actually. but.

why not this sunrise?

what if this one was more beautiful than the rest? or how many more sunrises would I be in the same city in which I took photos of the sunset? the same horizon and the same sea. I lay there in a failed attempt to block out the noise of yappy yapperson in the distance and asked myself what I found to be the most essential question of life.

if not now, when.

I got ready as silently as possible (LOL at this though because the only part of me that knows how to be quiet is my natural speaking voice). and for the first time since I’ve landed in europe (sorry mom, don’t read this next part) I ventured out into a city I didn’t know in a country and continent I’d never been to that speaks a language I can kind of get by speaking: alone.

honestly I was terrified. but like most things I do, I pretended I knew what I was doing (and I mean I’m alive now so obviously it was gucci). I stood on the beach staring at the horizon. feeling like the sea would carry off into the infinity of everything the light brushed.

some brief spaces in the weird relativeness of understanding we have of time in our life are worth more than all the fruit snacks in the world. sometimes they’re worth more than sleep. sometimes they’re worth the fear of doing something in a foreign place. but they’re ceaselessly and relentlessly worth doing alone. 

it’s like the one-on-one talk you have with your academic advisor about how you’re doing and like, have you even thought about your future (or farther ahead than what kinda pizza bagel you’re salivating about for when the meeting will finallllly end) and forces you to either be encompassed by the enormity of life or reaffirm the enormity of life. but in this case your academic advisor is mother nature. and you think about who you are. and there aren’t pizza bagels (pepperoni, definitely). but that one sunrise. that one indescribable sunrise that breaks your corazón. that’s your metaphorical pizza bagel (ok I promise, pure luck they’re the same shape). 

I obviously can’t put to words for you to see what I saw that morning that I’ll love forever, and I prob wouldn’t want you to. but I can share one bite of my metaphorical pizza bagel (no way in heaven I’m sharing the literal one, like, have you tried one?? 10/10 would recommend). sooo to conclude my longest and most detailed (I honestly gave a play by play, hope you already popped your popcorn for that one or even had the patience to do more than just look at the photos lol) journaling, may all your sunrises and sunsets come true and encompass you or confirm your understanding of the enormity of our existence.

a friend of mine once wrote an unnecessarily long piece of text (probz why we’re good amigos) with one very specific sentence (yeah, I took one from that whole thing, props to me) that particularly mirrors the grandeur of my subject matter (pretending I’m a profesora as I encourage you to read between the lines on this one and see some deeper meaning):

“even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.”

so here’s lookin’ at you, victor. the simply poetic depth is my daily sunrise.

*note: spelled phonetically 

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3 thoughts on “…and the sun will rise

  1. Elise, I love your witty self banter and clever metaphors. I am so glad you’re experiencing this adventure and I enjoy reading all your posts. This one has been my favorite so far. Keep chasing those sunsets 🙂

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  2. Elise, I love your witty self banter and clever metaphors. I’m so happy you’re getting to experience this once in a lifetime adventure. I am enjoying reading your blogs- this one especially. Keep chasing those sun rises 🙂

    Like

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