December 9, 2014
Ever had one of those moments when your entire perspective shifts in an instant? As if a split-second earthquake struck your mind and reordered everything inside it?
You know which.
Those moments when you feel yourself *flourishing* in an instant. When you're all, "How the hell did I not think of that before?" and slapping your palm against your forehead in excitement. Instants of pure clarity, where new windows of *possibility* open up and beckon you forward.
I call them Moments of Whoa.
Out of pure nostalgia, I've been trying to come up with a list of my own Moments of Whoa. Here are the ones I can recall:
— Foreboding joy. I heard Dr. Brené Brown speak in 2012, and she changed my life. She put words to feelings I wasn't even aware I was having—the fear that anything great, even happiness, is fleeting. She taught me to kick that fear to the curb. But she also taught me that I wasn't the only one who felt it.
— The book in me. One fine day, I came across the question: "What would you do if you could not fail?" I wish I could give credit to where I found it because it's the question that changed my life. The instant I asked myself that question, there was only one answer: I'd write a book. Since then, I've written two books—but not THE book I was talking about. I still have that book inside me.
— Time is an illusion. Reading Eckhart Tolle's Power of Now opened my mind to the illusion of time. Who cares about the past or the future? All we have is this very moment. And now this moment. And now this one. Time goes on without asking me what I want, so my best bet is to just enjoy this moment as it is.
— Your person. If you've never watched Grey's Anatomy, you may not fully get this, but anyone who's experienced the Meredith/Cristina dynamic knows that there's nothing more powerful than *your person*. Having *my person* means having a one stop shop for almost everything I need: support, encouragement, understanding, and a ridiculous amount of laughter. Maybe too much laughter? (Go say to her over here!)
— Able vs. thin. When I started working out, I wanted to lose the ten pounds I gained during my last semester of college. After those ten pounds (and then some) were gone, the *why* behind my exercise habit morphed into a desire to feel *able*: to pick up my baggage at the airport, to carry my groceries, to walk Madrid for hours with friends, to not feel a post-lunch downer. It worked. Six years and one baby later, I feel pretty damn able. Pounds be damned.
I wonder how many more Moments of Whoa have been sprinkled throughout my life without me even realizing it. I hope there are many more coming my way. :-)