The Happiness of Golden Moments
“Every now and then,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, “a moment comes along that makes all the rest of them worth it.” He was talking about the golden moments, the ones where you are so perfectly contented that you feel as if you’re made of warm honey.
It’s that contentment that’s the key. It’s made of a special kind of satisfaction, where you simply let go of wanting things to be more, or different, or better than they already are.
I’m not talking about resignation, about surrendering your hopes and dreams. Oh, no. They’re part of the golden moment. It enfolds them and paints your desires with a glow.
The contentment of the golden moment comes with sinking into everything that the moment holds and wrapping it in a whisper of yes that flows up from your very soul. It’s a kind of deep acceptance of the perfection of the present, the whole of it—even those aspects we would normally reject. It’s a sensing that everything is exactly where it needs to be and moving as it ought, and that it all has purpose and meaning even when it is beyond our understanding.
The happiness of golden moments is gladness for simply being alive. It’s beyond reason, beyond emotion, beyond mere comfort. It’s a moment of total ease, so big and broad that it embraces all possibility. It contains you, and you contain it, and all the definitions that would keep you from your joy simply dissolve in its radiance and wonder.
They come unbidden, these golden moments. They linger briefly and then they’re gone. But they are always flowing down the stream, and now and then we catch one, when we’re lucky. When we’re open. When we’re willing. And when we do, we see why the fellow had a twinkle in his eye from tasting one.
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