I was chatting with a friend recently about life, our purpose for being here… and his having lived 57 years without ever having experienced “a moment”.
Oh, but he has. We all have.
Every time he lifts the lid on his charcoal grill and his eyebrows curl from the aromatic steam. When he takes that first bite into a piece of zucchini from a charred bamboo skewer. When the harbor breeze sweeps across the 15th green under a radiant summer sun to cool his forehead.
Those are his moments.
The act of acknowledging the simplicity and sensation of life is the method of living for which we humans strive.
What are my moments, you ask?
I relish the heavenly shiver that makes its way up my neck and down to my toes when I hear a collection of voices and instruments strike the perfect chord. The peace and solitude as I glide along a still waterway at dawn, the tangy taste of pluff mud hovering around my face as a sleepy pelican rides the boat’s gentle wake. Sitting at a traffic light surrounded by other commuters, watching the birds perched on a nearby telephone wire.
These are my moments.
These are the times I’m here, body and soul. I feel life in the air, and the light, and the crackling energy around me.
There’s purpose. I’m not alone. I’m not in pain. I’m a part of something greater.
What’s one of your recent moments?