25 April 2011

Little Pockets of Perfection

In each of our lives, there are moments that ring true louder than the rest. It can happen when we least expect it, but is always pleasantly surprising. They're the sort of moments that you take a step back from a situation to see it for what it really is, a small pocket of perfection. A moment so surreal and so true to the essence of what exists that it can numb the mind. It can be insightful, offering a glimpse into futures unknown, or otherwise take a mental snapshot of what was once beautiful prodding through the wrinkled fabric of life. 

Shit happens, but it is these small moments that I live. They reassert any doubts that ever exist in my mind and sharpen the focus on both the past memories and the end goals. There is no logical formula for what produces these moments, and they strike--both at the chords of my soul and at free-will--without provocation or warning. It is a consuming feeling, knowing that things larger than myself are at work.

Forgive my vagueness if I seem at all cryptic or nondescript. It isn't for a lack of words to describe this particular occurrence, but rather that I'm being unfair as an author. I know it is my role to share experiences with you, so I'll get as specific as I possibly can while still maintaining some integrity.

A particular example of this took place no more than one year ago. There was nothing in particular striking or vivid about the situation. I was studying at a friends house. Sitting on her living room couch with my laptop out, inevitably putting off my studies in favor of wasting time. I'm pretty good at that. So anyways, this girl wasn't in the same room as me, but rather washing the dishes in the kitchen. Now, allow me a disclaimer. After finishing my story, refrain from bringing any gender dynamics into this. I don't give a shit what you think, it was merely a moment in time that stuck out in my head.

Back to the story. She was washing the dishes in the other room. We'd just ate a meal, I think it may have been a modified macaroni and cheese or else grilled cheese. Either way, it had cheese in it and it was tasty. I was in a post-dinner ecstasy state-of-mind. Content is the perfect word to describe it. I felt content. I looked over in the kitchen and noticed her washing the dishes. In that moment, I had a flash forward. Not too far forward, but rather a few years. It wasn't her shared-between-several-roommates college house, but rather our own. 

We were a couple years older, more hardened by the events of our past. More mature, but not too serious. Never too serious. Just more grown up. I felt like we were somewhere else, not in Michigan anymore, but just in another location. No rationale, just instinct. We are older and I'm sitting there on my computer and she washing the dishes post-dinner. Nothing special, yet perfect.

It was perfect because it was normal. It was right. I had another one of these moments today, and one the previous night. Moments that reiterate my eternal struggle grappling with love, loss, the usual 20-something problems. So these moment happens, perfectly uneventful. In fact, they'd go by in passing to most people without a second glance. It's lying uncomfortably in a bed with somebody and staying uncomfortable so they won't wake up and thus end the moment. It's spending time with their family and realizing how they idealize everything you seek. The world is too caught up today in completing checklists, rushing through things without taking in the moment. There is so much beauty right in front of us, sometimes just out of reach, although nothing is ever truly out of reach. Life goes on, day in and day out, the moon makes its passes, phase after phase, light and dark, renewing the night sky every 30 nightfalls. Just keep a mental note in the back of your mind for those little pockets of perfection. They may still catch you off guard, but don't lose the opportunity to take a step back and see a moment for what it is. Otherwise you might just be missing out on a lot. An awful lot.

T

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