Finding My Sunset

Making peace with what I lack by remembering what I have

Jun 10, 2024

It happened on a Monday afternoon. I was in the middle of batching tasks in my to-do list when I thought of doing something I’ve never done before.

I wasn’t sure if this was the right time to do it. I didn’t even know if I had enough money to make it happen. But I felt a compulsion strong enough to make me pay attention to what I was feeling. And so I did.

I decided to go on my first solo trip to Ormoc, Leyte.

When I outlined my 5-year goals, the one that stood out the most to me was my desire to travel. To explore a new environment on my own. To create new experiences. To visit a place away from home and see many things for the very first time.

With where I am today, however—still supporting my family and being early in my career—I felt like traveling would have to wait until I became wealthy. Maybe two, three, five years down the line. But do I really have to wait?

Traveling felt like something only financially secure people do—people who no longer worry about not having enough money. That’s not me, I thought. I have two siblings whose education I need to support, and there are house expenses to worry about. I couldn’t afford to focus on anything else.

But it is exactly because I feel this way that I knew I needed to travel.

leaving home (and my problems) behind

My solo trip to Ormoc took a month of planning, hesitating, and pondering. I wasn’t sure at the start because I didn’t have a lot of money saved up, but I found a way to make it work.

I traveled by van so that I wouldn’t spend much on transportation. And for my accommodation, I found a budget hotel that had my non-negotiables covered: a private shower, a clean room, and easy access to convenience stores and food establishments.

I stayed in Ormoc for 3 days and 2 nights. Unlike most of my other travels, I didn’t have an itinerary for the trip. I simply let myself wander around an unfamiliar city.

Ormoc had a baywalk that gave access to a great view of the sea. I went there during golden hour to witness the sunset. When I arrived, the place was already filled with people of all ages.

As I walked around, I saw a nice spot to view the sunset. I dropped my backpack and took a seat, then savored the scene in front of me.

It was bright and warm and beautiful. Small waves were crashing on the shore. There was a dog sleeping in the sand. And flocks of birds were circling over the sea.

The sky was painted with varying hues of blue and purple, and the clouds decorated it with hints of white and orange. The air was light and easy to breathe. I felt my troubles washed away with every inhale I take.

I stayed still and silent, and felt my mind starting to become as clear as the waters in front of me. It was the first time in 10 months—the time that passed since I graduated and started working full-time—that I didn’t have a problem to think about.

At that moment, nothing else seemed to matter than the scenery that was right in front of me.

I experienced many things during the whole Ormoc trip. I visited parks, watched a movie, and ate a generous serving of spareribs at the park. But it was that brief moment with the sky, the sea, and the sun that I couldn’t forget.

coming home

When three days passed and the time came for me to head back home, I couldn’t help but feel sad about leaving the Ormoc City Baywalk and the view of the sunset that it generously offered me. I wished I could stay in that moment, so I didn't have to deal with the problems I had back home.

At home, I couldn’t escape the stress and anxiety. Whenever I see my parents worry about money, I can't help but feel the same. As a result, I pressure myself to do more, earn more, and be more in order to satisfy my family’s needs.

But then I wondered. Will it serve me and my family if I constantly worry? The answer was an obvious no. But how could I stop worrying when I’m always reminded of what is lacking?

The days after I got back home were just as important as the time I spent in the sunset. I spent a lot of time reflecting through writing. And while working on this essay, I tried to figure out how I could recreate that incredible moment in the baywalk—how I could find my sunset again.

In the process, I remembered this quote from the author James Clear:

You can go to hell without moving an inch, just focus on what you lack. You can taste heaven without leaving earth, just rejoice in what you have.

This was my answer. It was a lesson I first learned when I turned 24, but somehow forgot along the way. But now that I rediscovered it again, I felt it resonate much deeper than it did before.

My moment with the sunset was special because I remembered to notice what’s beautiful in my life. I saw the world again with a brighter perspective, one that is not tainted by the problems I had to carry.

But my takeaway here isn’t to focus solely on what is good. Rather, it’s to realize that the good and the bad exist at the same time, and what matters is learning to accept both as part of my life.

The problem comes when I only pay attention to one. Focus only on the good and my issues will remain unresolved. Focus only on the bad and I’d only feel miserable. But when I learn to accept both, I become more grounded and I gain strength to move forward. And more importantly, I start to zoom out and see my life for all that it truly is. I no longer just fixate on the problems I am facing.

I can live a difficult life and a blissful life. Both can be true at the same time.

Sure, I don’t have enough resources to travel around the world. But I have enough to visit neighboring towns and create new experiences.

I don’t have enough time to play games whenever I want to. But I have enough to spend time with the people I love.

I don’t have an income that could take away all of my family’s financial worries. But I have enough to give them an easier life.

When I realized this for the first time, a comforting warmth entered my life, and I felt a similar serenity like I did in Ormoc. But knowing myself, I know that I’ll eventually forget and the worries will come flooding back.

But because I do know myself, I trust that I will always find my sunset again.

💙 Curiosity Conversations

Do you feel like there’s a misalignment between what you say you want and what you’re actually doing? Because I certainly do. I tell myself I value freedom, but I often get too caught up with work.

If this is a problem you’re also facing, I’d love to chat and learn from each other’s stories.

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