Moments
This time last year I encouraged my mom and dad to join us for a night away at their cottage on the lake. This would only be their second time going in the winter months and I told them we would build a fire and do some snowshoeing. My dad had recently turned eighty years old and my mom's birthday was to follow in a few months where she would join him in their 80th season. This is a good memory for me but it was the moment of going out across the frozen lake that stood out. There was that brief time when standing in my presence, I looked at my parents and realized that they were having a new experience. There was laughter, confidence, and a sense of accomplishment that created this for me. Later that day, my daughters and I were taking turns sliding down the driveway on a bucket-scooped children's sled that was clearly not meant for adults and my mom told me very matter-of-factly that she was ready to join in. My husband accompanied her to steer the sled and I watched as they laughed and screamed their way to the bottom. We didn't know at the time that my parent's cottage would be sold a few months later and this was our last time there collecting moments.
I see moments differently than memories. Memories are often created and made like there is some work or plan, maybe even control over them. But moments just happen if you stay present. Moments often involve more than one of our senses at a time. There are moments of realization, moments of gratitude, moments of understanding, moments of epiphany, fun, laughter, connection, pain, and grief. Moments bring a whole awareness of presence in a particular time, and space.
I think I fell in love with moments when I realized that moments were all we had The moment when you wake up before any thoughts of the future begin to accumulate. That moment when you are awake in your house while everyone else is asleep. When your dog snuggles into your side and sighs or you take that first sip of your coffee or tea, the sensations linger. When you release into the warm embrace of someone you know loves you. All the moments in nature when you feel the sun, notice the moon, the breeze touching your face, or the first summer raindrop. The moments of a shared laugh that is contagious, when someone reaches for your hand, or whispers, "Me too." I fell in love with moments when I realized they were the whole of the human experience, they were everything.
These moments come before, after, and simultaneously with other moments. The hard ones, the anxious fear-based ones, moments of judgment, mistakes, divisiveness, and confusion. The ones that come and find their way into changing how we see a situation, a person, or a belief with a whole new awakening.
I am a collector of moments that I inscribe into my hardcover book at the side of my bed. I gathered and sifted until five moments were scratched down with my pen. There are nights when I could fill the page but diplomatically set aside all the rest for safekeeping inside my over-stuffed mind. Still, there are nights when my pen hesitates and hovers just above the page until it lands on that moment that may have been overlooked or undervalued, or that I may not have been truly present for. Before my head hits the pillow I land on one and the next four come easier. Here I flip the page to begin a new collection. They are unedited and unfiltered. I see all of my life strung together by these moments that become the days, weeks, months, and years of my life. I am banking these moments like collateral for the grace of more just like them so that I can make sense of the hard and be fueled for the difficult. Recent moments have weaved together to keep me grounded when I reflect on them.
This week's lists are different than my moments at the cottage that I looked back on in my book. There was the moment of having a place to pour my emotion in a painting of sunflowers as I held space for the people of Ukraine, the moment soaking in the tub, the taste of the new chocolate chip peanut butter cookies my daughter made, the moments at school seeing my students with crazy hair and superhero shirts, the foot rub by my husband after a long day, the moment of silence I shared with my dad as we waited together for him to see the doctor and the moment of anticipation of a week off from work to collect moments with my family.
I am a collector of moments because I don't want to miss a thing. I want to show up for the joy, the laughter, the people, the hard, the lessons, the new, and the full experience of presence.