Madeline O’Brien

758.

That’s how many photos appear when I search “sunset” in my camera roll. 

I can’t remember a time in my life when I haven’t gone out of my way to capture a good sunset. Before I had my license, I would have my parents drive past our subdivision just so I could take a picture of the sun dipping below the fields surrounding my neighborhood. I would get frustrated if the windows were dirty, someone’s head was in the way or the car was moving too fast and my picture came out blurry. 

Now that I drive myself, my stops have become much more frequent. I take the long way, turn down random streets and get disappointed when the road curves and the colors disappear from my line of vision. 

I love golden hour. Pinks, oranges and yellows streak across the sky, while trees glow with a halo of gold. The way the light brings out the beauty in the most ordinary places never ceases to amaze me. There is a reason it is called golden hour. The right lighting makes almost anything look beautiful. However, as much as I love golden hour, I also wonder: why do we only call an hour beautiful when the lighting is right?

As FFA members, sometimes we focus too much on making every moment look elaborate, ideal or beautiful. We look for our own version of golden hour: the winning speech, the new leadership position or the perfect chapter event. This is because those moments are the ones that photograph the best.

The truth is, though, we all have struggles, we all make mistakes and we all have bad days. Those moments aren’t pretty. They are the moments we choose not to take a picture of because the lighting isn’t quite right, but they are also the moments that help us grow.

We tend to focus on sharing the moments that are the most impressive, but our FFA experience is not measured by highs alone. The growth that happens when no one is watching matters just as much.

Missouri FFA, don’t spend so much time chasing the perfect sunset that you miss the beauty of the moment you are already in. Just because the lighting doesn’t seem right doesn’t mean the moment isn’t beautiful.

few weeks ago, I was driving home from state officer training in Jefferson City to attend my local scholarship night. This drive, however, was far from smooth. I got caught in one of the worst rainstorms I have ever driven through. The rain was falling so hard I could barely see the lines on the road or make out the taillights of the car in front of me. In just a few minutes, the road went from familiar to unrecognizable. 

Almost instinctively, I found myself reaching over to turn down the radio. Now, I knew that simply turning down the radio was not going to change the rate at which the rain pelted to the ground around me, but what I did know was that everything else already felt so overwhelming. I turned the radio down because I did not need unnecessary noise competing for my attention when the road was already so unclear. After turning down the distractions, I could focus on what was right in front of me. 

As I thought back to this car ride, I realized how often we could benefit from doing the same thing in life. 

As FFA members, we are constantly surrounded by noise. We compare ourselves to those we deem more successful. We worry about giving the perfect speech, picking up on the rules of a new contest, getting the officer position or simply figuring out what comes next. We struggle with not knowing exactly what will happen in the future, especially when we feel like those around us already have it all figured out. 

When we decide to listen to the noise, our first instinct is often to look ahead. We want answers, and we want certainty, a step-by-step guide that will get us to where we think we need to be. But sometimes, what we really need is to turn down the radio. We need to quiet the distractions and comparisons so we can give our attention to the opportunities already in front of us: the next chapter activity, the next contest or the next step in an SAE. 

Despite the appeal of the certainty that seems to accompany the future, I have found there is always a chance to grow when you choose to live in the moment. That rainy drive home from Jefferson City reminded me that clarity is not always about being able to see farther. Sometimes it is about turning down the distractions so you can focus more fully on what matters right now. 

Missouri FFA, do not let the noise prevent you from finding joy in the present, and do not let it convince you that you must have it all figured out. Sometimes all we need to do is be okay with turning down the radio.