Finding the perfect moment

So, you’re making a roast lamb dinner on Sunday night and damn it - there's not enough mint jelly to go around. And you can’t be bothered driving to the supermarket. And you don’t really want to go to that meeting at work tomorrow. And there’s a noise in the car that’s starting to sound expensive. And even though you’ve been really, really good all week, you haven’t even lost 100 grams on the scales. Your friend bored you stupid at lunch with snaps from her holiday, your partner didn’t pick up on your hint for the perfect anniversary present and, all in all, you’re feeling pretty pissed with the world.

Then you get a visit from the police about a crash involving your loved one. Or an email from your doctor that says your results are in and they need to see you urgently. Or a change pack from your boss that means your role is disestablished. Or the phone call from a family friend to say your parent has suffered a heart attack. Or anything at all like that.

The 'bad thing' happens, and the world changes.

The 'bad thing' is all encompassing. It’s constant. It’s cloying. You can’t breathe, and you can’t think of anything else. When the ‘bad thing’ happens, it has a way of sharpening your senses and dulling them all at the same time. And the only thing you are completely sure of is that things will never be the same again.

Fast forward a few days/weeks/months/years and the newness of the ‘bad thing’ has worn off/settled down/become more manageable. And you think back to that beautiful, normal Sunday night when all you had to worry about was a lack of condiments and the chance of a future car repair. When life was actually good, and normal and safe and predictable.

You look back at how you made dinner while you thought of mundane things and you wonder why you weren’t filled with joy in such a perfect moment. It’s because you didn’t know it was the moment when everything was perfect, just before it wasn’t.

I look back on the days leading up to my husband’s stroke, nearly three years ago. He’d just flown back from a work trip in Japan. We’d not long moved into a new apartment with the most stunning views of the sunrise. We were leaving for New York in a few weeks, on the trip of a lifetime with our best friends. I had a job that was really challenging me, but in a good way.

I’m sure I complained that week, about any number of things – my husband not picking up his socks, having to stop for petrol on my way to work, how the supermarket ran out of my favourite drink. Oh yes, there was much to criticise before the ‘bad thing’ happened, and so much to wish for.

It's elusive, that moment when everything is perfect, just before it isn’t. It’s hard to recognise it while it’s happening. But I try to appreciate it every day now. It’s not about living each day like it’s your last – if that were the case, I’d spend all the money, eat all the cake, drink all the wine and soak up every moment with my loved ones. (Actually, that sounds pretty good!)

For me, real happiness comes from accepting that this boring/frustrating/average/kind of okay moment, when compared to life after the ‘bad thing’ happens, is so perfect. It’s the moment I’ll look back on and think “wow, life was pretty damn good, wasn’t it?”.

My advice? Don’t focus too much on the ‘bad thing’ that might be lurking around the corner. We can't control any of that. But what we can do is realise how pretty amazing life is, right now.?We can take this moment now and really treasure it. :-)