It was the day after the Las Vegas shooting. The entire day I was waiting to write an article about how awful it was, and the ridiculousness of the masses and their 'thoughts and prayers', while nothing would actually be done to prevent something like this from happening again. I let my anger about the event fester throughout the day, almost like a scab that you want to pick at. When I got back from my political science class, I decided to play some video games, and then I would write my angry piece about this shooting. Apparently, I let my anger seep into my gaming (or I'm just a poor sport), and I slammed my controller to the ground in a fit of poorly controlled rage, rendering it unusable. I was madder that now I was going to lose to this complete stranger in Madden, but now I had to go to the store to get a new controller.

I am a college student, which means that I'm broke. I get jealous of homeless people for waving their cup of change around, seemingly gloating about how much more money they have than me. Yeah, that kind of broke, so Uber was out of the question. In the end, I decided to take my bike to Best Buy, which is roughly three miles away from my dorm, a distance that sounds pretty short and easy until you actually have to do it. Most of that distance is covered by a bike trail through the trees, but I was not admiring the beauty of nature. I was sweating, and hot, and tired, and I was still angry. I distracted myself by wondering whether the trail was slightly uphill, or if I was out of shape. I choose to believe the former.

I finally got to Best Buy, but there was nowhere to lock up my bike, so I just left it by the doors, gave it a darting glance every now and then to make sure it was still there and tried to get out as quickly as possible. I got my controller, and a charger for good measure, and proceeded to ride another three miles back to my dorm room.

It was at this point that I began to recognize the majesty of the world around me. Maybe I had expended all my angry energy on biking, or it was the endorphins being produced to soothe my burning legs, but I felt almost at peace, with the clarity of thought I haven't had for months. As the wind gently brushed my face, I began to notice everything around me; the subtle indentations on the marks of trees, the textured bark of a tree, and all the glorious hues of orange and yellow that a midwestern autumn has to offer, the decaying plant matter creating a thin coat of leaves on the ground.

It was at this moment of tranquility that I had a realization: the world is beautiful. All of the complexities of nature and even the world we have created for ourselves should be appreciated. Even something as mundane as a backyard fence I passed by on my way down the trail is full of nuance. Somebody had to mine that metal from the ground, and then that metal had to be transported to a factory, where it was melted and molded into the shape it has now. Then it was shipped hundreds of miles to the store where some person bought it and put it in their yard.

How complex and amazing the world is sometimes lost on us; we feel as if this is the way it's always been, and always will be, but this is not the case. We live in the most interconnected, advanced, and free point in the history of humanity. Everything around us is a testament to our resilience and ingenuity as a species, but someday, none of this will exist. Cars, concrete, and even people will all be long gone one day. Everything has its time, and everything ends, including us, so with the time that you have left, appreciate the world we live in. Especially in times of sadness and difficulty, we can look at the world as it is now, and see all that we as a species have accomplished, and we can hope for the future, knowing that we have the potential to overcome any challenge, and solve any problem we are faced with. In the wake of the terrible massacre in Las Vegas, appreciate what you have, and what you might take for granted, and know that it will only get better.