In a world where our daily routines are often dictated by urgency and digital screens, finding moments of genuine tranquility can feel like a challenge. In this episode of Before Breakfast, host Laura Vandercam proposes a simple yet transformative tip to enhance our daily lives: intentionally going outside to witness the sunset. This practice is not merely about observing a natural phenomenon; it is about cultivating a sense of "awe" and creating more memorable experiences in our evenings.
Vandercam introduces her listeners to a cherished family ritual she calls "toad time"—defined as "time outside after dinner." While the term might be whimsical, the underlying philosophy is rooted in the importance of transitioning from the indoor domestic sphere to the natural world. As the seasons shift and the days grow longer following the March time change, the opportunity to spend time "together outside after dinner" becomes increasingly accessible. This transition provides a necessary buffer between the demands of the day and the winding down of the evening.
One of the central arguments presented is that many people do not use their evenings "particularly well." After a long day, our energy levels are often depleted, making it difficult to be "intentional" with our time. Vandercam suggests that choosing to watch the sunset is a "very low energy intention." Unlike complex hobbies or labor-intensive chores, this practice requires minimal physical exertion but offers a significant psychological payoff.
By committing to this ritual, you are effectively nudging yourself to "get some fresh air" and step away from the sedentary habits that often define our post-work hours. It serves as a gentle reminder that nature provides "free entertainment" on a regular basis, and failing to engage with it is a missed opportunity for enrichment.
To make this a "regular thing," Vandercam advises a pragmatic approach. It requires a bit of logistical planning:
This level of planning helps one "think through your evening," transforming a potentially aimless block of time into a purposeful experience. Even if you only have thirty minutes to "play outside in the backyard," the act of aligning that time with the sunset can make the evening feel far more significant.
While the goal is to make this a habit, Vandercam is quick to acknowledge that life is not always conducive to such rituals. "Some days are stormy," and sometimes our obligations—like attending an orchestra performance or managing the strict bedtimes of young children—will naturally "preclude watching the sunset."
She emphasizes that this is perfectly acceptable. The objective is not to create a rigid mandate, but to seize the opportunity when it arises. When you do manage to step outside and see the "spectacular oranges and pinks on the clouds" while feeling the "spring breeze on your face," the experience serves as a powerful antidote to the rush of the morning routine.
Ultimately, the practice of watching the sunset is about reclaiming the beauty of the present moment. By shifting our focus from the stress of the day to the grandeur of the horizon, we can add a layer of wonder to our lives that might otherwise be absent. As Vandercam concludes, it is about "making the most" of the time we have.