Today I reviewed my year. I stared at the sheet of paper - a ledger weighing the good and the bad. As I stared at the page, a question: how many sublime moments did I have? So I added a third column, straight down the the middle of the sheet.
Sublime moments
My first observation was there were not as many as I’d have thought. Second, these were enabled by removing the steady state background hum of agitations: distraction, judgment and worry, processing all the things. So these moments were the product of letting go. Seems the great paradox of our times that we do so much when we actually need so little. Third, nearly all of them happened in nature.
There was the time I went Cross-country skiing with Lev. The time I sat in the back yard sitting on the bench and staring at the trees in meditation. Then there was the time Lua was inconsolable…
I tried to wait it out but she wouldn’t stop. I scooped her out of her crib. Shhh, I said, wiping her sweaty hair from her face. She quieted down as I carried her, tiny torso against my chest. I brought her into my bedroom. There is a lemon tree by the window. We looked at it a moment - a pause. I pointed to the lemons. Do you see them, I asked? A soft but scratchy voice responded. Yes, daddy. Lemons. What’s that? I asked, pointing to the moon. Lua, she said (it means moon in Portuguese). Her face beamed in the light. The world was for a few precious moments quiet. I held my daughter. Maybe it’ll be a memory she references down the line. The lemons created interesting negative space against the night sky.
Logic and reason are good things. They help us assess our lives. But no assessment is complete without the magic.