“Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.”
~Hans Christian Anderson.
Some days we wake up and we immediately conclude, “This is going to be good!”
And so it is. We have mastered this moment.
We have an abundance of things to look forward to in this state—we’re resplendently hopeful, even to the idea of the unfathomable. We cannot even contend with such irreconcilable joy.
Holding this Terrific Moment
Days like these we gently rest, content as we are, loath to grasp at more happiness—the shyest modicum even—that we can safely contend with or endure. For when we grasp at it, off then it suddenly vanishes into thin air!
Therein lays a momentous tension.
We hold something with beauty so lightly and it exists before our eyes, even for the whole world to see; clasp it a tender bit tighter, however, and it slips through our fingers like warm oil.
A Burgeoning Platform
Because this particular day seems more blessed than many others, we ‘risk manage’ with it, applying to it the thought of the ages, to the wisdom of the sages.
We can’t restrain the day so we do the next best thing of perception. That is to simply begin gently planning ahead, whilst containing the moment, so we can realign our less bliss-filled expectations—which we know will be all too awry the day after or the day after that.
With the vision of this ‘not-quite-yet’ life on our peripheral radar, we’re investing—or better put, redeploying—some of the superabundant joy we have now for a time when we won’t quite be so spiritually spritely.
We have to be careful how we redeploy our positive spiritual energy—the infusion of God’s abiding Presence together with a fortunate set of circumstances.
Some planning, in the purely negative sense, is perhaps invested too deeply in the indecisiveness of worry. We’re not advocating or standing for that. Considering what is next and aiming on mitigating the risks to our strident hope is merely a string of wisdom in prudently retarding the ambush of time.
And time will inevitably ambush all of us via the fact we cannot hold bliss.
Half of one eye on the near-sighted future does help us, very paradoxically, to redouble our resources of hope and joy in this present and lovely day we’re right in.
Both for then and now, we like the fact that we’re attuned to reality—not one little bit scared about the truth and what the future holds.
Now, that’s life!
© 2010 S. J. Wickham.