How Do You Extract Sunshine?

In Physics class back in college, I learned that the sunlight touching our skins is actually eight-minutes “late.”

Eight minutes and twenty seconds, to be precise, for the light to travel the 150 million kilometers of vacuum from the Sun to Earth. Therefore, “if one day the Sun decided to explode,” our professor said, “we have exactly 8 minutes and 20 seconds to leave Earth.” (jokingly). Perhaps not a lot of time to save ourselves from the inevitable oblivion. But I think just enough time for life to flash before our eyes. The victories. Failures. Praises. Insults. Gains. Losses.

Loss.

And the inescapable cocktail of grief, nostalgia, and isolation that follows it.

When the mind becomes a battlefield and every thought in ruins, we cannot help but ask: Is rock bottom still farther below? Will the light at the end of the tunnel ever draw nearer? How much more do I need to wait? How do I find the courage to begin again?

The brevity of life allows us to contemplate that our existence is an extension of grace. A love letter from God to remind us that love is everywhere we go. And how great a gift it is to be capable of that love as well. It is that same love that allows us to alchemize loss into poetry, songs, art, and generosity.

Grief confronts us with the reality that no one else can transform our emptiness for us. It is an ongoing responsibility that belongs to us alone; to gather what little light remains and turn it into something that makes us feel alive again. Like a leaf in late winter drawing strength from the faint warmth of the apricity, we, too, must learn to photosynthesize. We are creatures of the sun. We rejoice in the light, not in the shadow. To feel—even in sorrow—is to be alive.

As creatures of light, how do we exactly extract sunshine?

How do we find joy?

1. Extract sunshine from ordinary moments

The “sunshine” isn’t found in grand achievements but in the mundane and the ordinary: the taste of your favorite food, your cat’s playful mischief, the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the softness of freshly made bedsheets, an old photograph, a friend’s voice. If life is short, then ordinary moments become extraordinary precisely because they are finite. Progress is built on ordinary days, not on the perfect ones.

2. Become a source of light

There is fulfillment in helping others. The smallest act of kindness can light up someone’s darkest moment, often as much as it transforms the one who offers it. Loss leaves behind an emptiness, but generosity gives that emptiness somewhere to go. We cannot fully realize how much light we have left until we share it. In physics, energy cannot be created nor destroyed; it can only be transformed. Perhaps the same is true of us. What grief takes from us can be transformed into compassion, kindness, and love. Love, after all, can burn as brightly as day.

3. Make joy as an act of defiance

If loss and grief create war and ruin, happiness itself becomes rebellion. Beneath the weight of emptiness, never surrender your identity and know that you are human. Capable of many things and deserving of every chance:

To laugh.
To love.
To create.
To write.
To rest.
To raise a living thing.

There’s something so powerful about raising a living thing whether it be a plant, pet, or person… you really learn so much lessons in love and care and healing. How lucky we are to be surrounded by things that grow.

4. Leave something behind

Maybe the measure of a life is not how brightly we burn, but how far our light reaches once we’re gone. Often we underestimate that our light can potentially reach the heartbroken, the sick, the dispossessed, the fearful, and the hopeless; often, it reaches people we will never meet and futures we will never see. So, perhaps that is what it means to leave the world a little brighter than we found it. Our words, kindness, discoveries, art, and love, these continue their journey long after we have disappeared. They become the light others can draw upon in their darkest hours. And so we should offer them with intention, with charity, and with gentleness.

5. Step outside

There is no better way to extract sunshine than literally being outside—touching the grass, feeling the earth beneath your feet, welcoming the breeze against your skin, and the warm glow of the sun tingling your skin. Sunlight nourishes us in more ways than one. At adequate levels, sunlight stimulates the release of feel-good hormones, providing a powerful, natural boost to our mood. It also triggers the production of vitamin D supporting stronger immune function, and adequate vitamin D levels have been associated with healthier aging. Being outside reminds us that we are not separate from life but participants in it. That open field you see with trees to offer shade allows us to remember that we belong to something far greater than ourselves. And sometimes, this sense of belonging is enough to let the light back in.

Loss has a way of convincing us that we have become diminished. Yet there is extraordinary strength in choosing to remain with our pain instead of running from it. Sometimes, the bravest response is not to silence our tears, but to listen to what they are trying to tell us. Grief often reveals what mattered most, what still needs healing, and what we are unwilling to let go. It takes remarkable strength to sit with those feelings, acknowledge them, and keep moving forward.

It is an unwritten rule in life that after every prolonged period of hardship and uncertainty, there comes a period where you achieve quantum leaps. Abundance. The person who reaches the other side is rarely the same person who entered. The only requirement is that you keep showing up. Never abandon yourself before life has the chance to surprise you.

Atomic Habits author, James Clear, proposed a simple rule for life that rarely fails: “Optimize for enthusiasm. Make as many choices as you can that leave you feeling energetic and interested. Pay attention to when you have the urge to pursue or participate in something and do more of it.”

But enthusiasm alone is not enough. As psychologist Carl Jung reminds us, “your vision will become clear only when you look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

Even then, no one is meant to carry life’s burdens alone. Poet Adrienne Rich tells us that “there must be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors.” Healing feels like a cool spring water in the presence of people who allow us to be vulnerable without making us feel diminished.

So if you find the work that fills you with enthusiasm, awaken to the quiet truths of your own heart, and discover the rare people who never make you question your worth as a warrior, hold on to them. They are among life’s purest forms of sunshine.

After all, we began by learning that the sunlight warming our skin is already eight minutes and twenty seconds late.

If it takes you a day, two weeks, five months, a year, or ten for the kind of healing to find you, never worry. Even the Sun’s warmth arrives a little late. Here’s my assurance that time always knows when to show up. Be patient with your heart. Beautiful things in life are never meant to arrive all at once.

Take heart.

Your light is on its way.