The simple, overwhelming joy of existing.

Today I was driving home, listening to a good song (Windmills, by Toad the Wet Sprocket, if you must know) when the sky seemed to suddenly explode into this beautiful sunset. The Rockies, craggy and defined by snow, were dripped in this ethereal orange haze. I had to consciously refocus my attention on the road. I gripped the leather of the steering wheel and forgot about everything. I have a lot to be thankful for in my life, but at that moment I let it all go and just existed in the moment. It felt so overwhelmingly miraculous to just exist. God knows what it all may mean, or how it came to be, but the simple act of living is beautiful.