I caught a moment of happiness today. It crept up on me. It was just a moment where the silent, snowy beauty of the world outside coincided with writing Christmas cards to my clients inside in the warm, with Clarence sitting on my lap. I was thinking about my clients, their bravery and warmth, and then my own journey, and my nerves and anxiety about the future. All this came into the present moment and it was all OK.
I felt happy, but not as I would have defined happiness before. I'm learning to appreciate moments for what they are, not compare them to some imagined standard of perfection. Is this just age?
Maybe, or perhaps I am just beginning to understand Professor Kelly Wilson's work on ambiguity. The extraordinary power of appreciating the moment just as it is. This means accepting discomfort, embracing imperfection, being willing to appreciate the extraordinary range of emotions available for a rich and full life.
This would all have seemed like rubbish to me only 3 or 4 short years ago. And I wonder what I would have made of this poem, then, when it has such vast power to move me, now:
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.