Several years ago as I was getting ready for bed a thought dropped into my mind: “This is the most perfect moment of my life.”
The idea was absurd.
I mean, I’ve had plenty of moments that might be in the running for the most perfect of my life. The time I got to watch a meteor shower streaking hundreds of trails of light across the night sky. The first time I went snorkeling in the Carribbean and saw the spectacular world of coral and tropical fish. The times camping out in the Rockies under the canopy of the Milky Way. The bright September day of horseback riding in the Tetons.
Not to mention all the times I’ve laughed with a friend over a cup of coffee, or witnessed a rainbow paint itself across stormy clouds, or wept while I listened to the last movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
I could go on with my litany of perfect moments, but I think you get the idea. Brushing my teeth would never have made the list.
But I suspect that was precisely the point. I wasn’t standing on a mountain peak looking out over a stunning vista. I wasn’t sitting in a concert hall listening to a breathtaking orchestral work. I wasn’t celebrating around a dinner table with good friends.
I was doing something completely mundane that I do every single day of my life.
The unbidden realization made me aware of how much I evaluate my experiences according to some scale in my mind about what constitutes perfection. Anything that doesn’t exhibit some extraordinary quality is not worthy of notice, and certainly not reverence.
But there it was, this spontaneous teaching that has stayed with me ever since: This is the most perfect moment of my life.
Since then, from time to time I repeat the phrase to myself. It almost always shifts my awareness. It opens my eyes to the absolutely amazing miracle of any moment, no matter how mundane it may seem.
You just might try this teaching yourself and see what happens. While doing some mundane act say to yourself, “This is the most perfect moment of my life.” Repeat it until its truth finally begins to break through.
LOVE this, patricia. so you think that if i say this to myself, i will start to believe it??!! well, it sure would make life richer – her goes!
more, i want more, please!!! sharing this on FB
Susan, give it a try and let me know how it goes! They do say, after all, that practice makes “perfect”.
I feel that way whenever I eat something that my body’s been telling me to eat. I exclaim, “this is the best day of my life!” and my friends look at me, disbelieving… 🙂
Yue Yu, that is fabulous! Isn’t it something how much we can take for granted, but then, when we start paying attention we can see how amazing it all is?
Ignatian spirituality will do that to you. Every breath is a perfect moment….the gift of life, poured out for us to savor…sometimes taken for granted…often taken for granted until one struggles or sits with another during an asthma attack. But in noticing the precious gift is an opportunity to live in Thanksgiving for all God has given to us. Living in the joy is the challenge and the benefit when it is accomplished. Peace & Blessings, and so good being with you today.
Marianne, thanks for your reflections. Breath. Yes. So amazing. It was good to see you too. Be well.
You are absolutely right. I too have uncountable “the most perfect moments” in my life. The feeling of each moment like that is unexplainable good. If I were trying to explaine it I would say that, “It is more like peace, contentment and joy felt all in one same moment.” I love it. There is no better feeling than that for me. I thank God for moments like that which makes life a worthy journey.
Thank you for the reminder.
… and many of those moments were with you as your room-mate in San Anselmo. E.g, I came home from a long day of classes you said, “Hmingi, tea? ” as you open the cupboard full of one million and one kinds of teas (so it seemed :)) you own, all the while smiling towards me… your hospitality and kindness made many of my “perfect moments.”
BTW, I thought there were only 2 kinds of tea on earth. Green and black. You educated me about the many flavored teas of the americans.
Ah, the good old days at seminary in San Anselmo. One beautiful moment I remember of our time as roommates was when I was fixing dinner and had no soy sauce, so I used some of yours. You came home and I said, “Hmingi, I used some of your soy sauce.” You busted out laughing, and said, “That’s not my soy sauce! That’s our soy sauce!” You taught me how absurd my American sensibilities about individualism were. Thank you for those perfect moments!
You are truly blessed. May our lives be filled with such moments, and may we be able to greet them whenever they occur.
Jim, thank you for your comment, and let me second what you have said–that we be able to greet the Perfect Moment always.
Peace to you.