Saturday morning. 
I awake a sleepyhead. Gray, clouded skies outside my window establish the day’s tone and tempo. I relish the comfort and stillness of this beautiful, lazy morning for a delicious fifteen minutes after quieting my grumpy alarm. 
I roll out of bed and open the curtains, letting the soft light awaken the room. I check the weather and see that the rain will be arriving soon. The course of the day’s agenda is clear. The rain will keep me indoors until the afternoon. 

I set to work making the coffee. 
Recently unearthed from the crevices of my music library, Françoise Hardy appeared. Her melodic musings are in French and completely incomprehensible to me, but the beautiful and soothing compositions are light and lovely on my ears. I hit ‘play’ and fill the morning with a jazzy backdrop which accentuates the pleasurable tone this sensuous and carefree day has to offer. 

The rain arrives. 

I open the window to bring myself closer to the sweet sounds. The falling rain. The wind in the trees. Occasional birds. Françoise Hardy. 

I sip my coffee hot and scrumptious. I feel the cool breeze coming in through the open window. 

The moment is perfection. 
I consider sitting here all day. Staring out the window. Being still and appreciating every single millisecond of this enchanting, transcendent experience.
The idea seems so novel. So luxurious.

The pace of the world we live in so focussed on doing rather than being.

I have imagined sitting and being in this moment, and yet, it seems an immediate impossibility.
I can see it.
Sitting here so completely enmeshed in the moment.
I can see how deeply important it is for me and every single human being to take these moments which are ours for the taking. To savor them when they present themselves so unexpectedly and in such stark contrast to the tens of thousands of moments we race through each day, both completely unaware and fully focussed on some intangible thing which drives us so relentlessly forward. Sacrificing the overwhelming pleasure and peace these moments offer us. The unique intersection of our time and our full sensory awareness creating a crescendo of staggering beauty which connects our hearts and our lives to the divine, to the infinite. 

The unbelievable toil of our ancestors’ daily lives, the persistent sacrifice for mere survival which governed so much of their days. Even in the extreme, these moments were all around them. Close by. The sun setting on the horizon viewed from the entrance of a shelter. The sound of a much needed rain to make the crops grow. The warmth of the campfire at the close of another long day. The untold mysteries of a star filled sky. 

It is hard to believe that these moments exist throughout time and space. 
It is hard to believe that it is up to every single one of us to choose to see what is right in front of us and always wanting to be seen. 
It is hardest to believe that most of us will choose not to see. 

It is hard to believe that modernity has persuaded us that these moments don’t exist and if they do, they do not matter. What matters is moving forward and what is beyond. What matters is not what is right in front of you. What matters is what will be.

Moments which make it all worth it. 
Moments of light in contrast to dark. 
Moments to savor, never knowing when our last will arrive.

Moments which exist, as they do, for us – all of us – because we are human and have the unique capacity of comprehension and self awareness which allows us to acknowledge their existence and our incredible existence within them. 
Moments which stop us in our tracks, and allow us to recognize all we are capable of perceiving. 
Perhaps these moments are so much a part of our humanity, it is what they meant when they decided to call us human beings. Because being in these moments is what makes us the most human we can be. 
Perhaps …