Moments
2023 New Year transition reflection series 1
The film Moments of Happiness made a deep impression on me when I visited the World of Coca-Cola museum in Atlanta in 2019. The idea that we remember life by remembering moments resonated deeply.
The relationship between moments and memory appeals to the nonlinear nature of time that I find increasingly interesting. While we can forget long stretches of time, we remember certain moments as if they last forever. These moments are the gold nuggets that our memories choose to hold onto after mining the river of life. They are like evergreen trees that always give hope.
I have been hosting year end reflection parties in my coaching circles, where participants take turns to offer reflective prompts. In one of the circles, this prompt was offered: What was a defining/enlightening/inspiring moment for you this year?
The prompt reminded me of the poem Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
I am thankful that I have experienced sublime moments as I am about to share below. Even though the linear passage of time for those particular moments do not last long, the nonlinear impact they have made on me will always stay and continue to inspire me.
Morning on the lake
One of my best experiences this year was the five-day workshop on healing from trauma at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. Kripalu is situated in West MA next to a small mountain lake. Every morning I would get up around 6:00 AM, and alternate my activities between going to a morning yoga session and taking a walk to the lake.
On this particular morning, I decided to take a walk to the lake. It was truly a picturesque morning. There was light fog steaming up from the lake, embracing the early morning sun. There were people kayaking in the fog, creating gentle rippling patterns across the surface of the water. Geese were swimming near the shore, feeling quite at home. People all along the shoreline were walking, reading, meditating, all quiet, all immersed in the beauty of the nature surrounding them.
While standing on the shore and taking it all in, I felt one with the universe. It was a moment when the boundary that separated me from the rest of the world disappeared, a moment when I saw things from the perspective of the “whole”. Everything belonged together, everything existed harmoniously together.
During the trauma workshop, so many stories of trauma were shared: divorces, deaths, betrayals, abuses, addictions, accidents. Trauma rips the heart apart while nature heals it. It took a lot to process the traumas that were surfacing. One fellow participant commented that if it were not for the yoga classes and the surrounding nature, everyone would be going out to the bar and having drinks. Could tending more to our bodies and connecting with nature be part of the answer to healing individuals and societies?
I am so fortunate to live on a lake. Everyday my morning routine includes taking a walk to the lake, meditating on the dock and watching the reflection of clouds on the water. I can recreate the moment on the Kripalu lake right in my own back yard. I enjoy starting my day grounded in the inspiration I receive from nature.
This is an entry in my journal from May 16 this year:
It rained last night; the air was extra fresh this morning. After my morning jogging, I walked to the dock — this is my new morning routine. What I saw on the dock was almost like magic: lush green trees, blue sky reflected in the mirror like lake, and a light fog surrounding the island in the distance. I felt one with the universe. Definitely a scene to remember and imprint in my brain.
Fall leaves
A forest of oak trees lay in the backyard between my house and the lake. One afternoon early November as I was walking down the lake, a breeze swept in and triggered a quick shower of oak leaves. As I bore witness to the last dance of the leaves towards their roots in the bright afternoon sun and heard the gentle sound they made touching the ground, I felt a strange sense of peace. It is the peace of taking the natural course. What better could happen to a leaf after it has lived a full life from spring to summer to fall? It is only natural for them to fall back to the roots where they came from, to become part of the earth that will nourish the new leaves next spring. It is divinely fortunate that the earth is there to receive them.
The death and decay happening in fall and winter often evoke a sense of melancholy and grief in me. But that moment of the last dance of the leaves opened my eyes to the other side of the story. Letting go becomes natural when the time is right. It is part of the cycle of life.
As I continued to reflect on this moment, I had a flash back of a seminar I attended when I was a college student studying English literature at Shanghai International Studies University. It was like yesterday that I was sitting on the red seats in the modern auditorium. At the time of the seminar, Lion King was showing in theatres across Shanghai. The topic was about the cycles of life reflected in the Lion King. I remember feeling the presence of a larger life force that goes beyond the life and death of individuals, that is handed down from generation to generation, that embodies the spirit of our ever-advancing human civilization. I experienced that life force when I watched the Lion King show live on Broadway in New York City in 2012 and again at the moment of falling leaves by the lake.
The Moon, Rainbow and Palm trees
This year I celebrated the ten-year anniversary of living in the United States. Portland Oregon was the first city I visited upon my arrival in 2012. One moment foreshadowed the happiness and fulfillment I was about to experience. I was standing outside a restaurant waiting for the friends I was visiting with. A street artist was playing music behind me on the sidewalk. I was looking up at a full moon in the sky. The combination of friendship, food, music and the moon put a magical spark to the moment that I always look back upon with a smile.
Last year Roger and I celebrated our four-year wedding anniversary at the Middleton Place near Charleston South Carolina where we got married. One luxury we afforded ourselves was a sunset boat cruise around the Charleston harbor. Midway in the cruise as we were walking around the deck, chatting with fellow passengers, I spotted a rainbow in the sky. Viewed from the water, the rainbow looked so majestic against the open sky, as if it was really a bridge to a better place. At that moment, I felt that the wishes that were dear to my heart would all come true. One year later today, I am truly thankful for the confirmation the rainbow brought me as I was navigating significant changes in my life, and for the faith it inspired in me.
Every year Roger and I try to come to Palm Beach Florida during the winter to soak up some sunshine. Every year we are greeted by the signature royal palms. Their leaves are like big fans standing at the top of their tall and straight bodies. Watching the palm leaves dancing to the wind always brings a smile to my face. Somehow, they give me an illusion of eternity, maybe because of the never changing seasons here, or maybe also because of the promise of a relaxed time after a year’s hard work. While we are here, we take bike rides every day on the dream ten-mile bike lane surrounding the lake where we camp with our RV; we watch the pelicans skydiving to catch fish; we chat with neighbors and cherish the sense of community in the campground. We have earned these few leisure days before the year ends to rest, recuperate and restore.
As I savor the moment watching palm leaves dancing to the wind, I am deeply grateful for the year that has been, and for the year that is to come. I am full of joyful anticipation of the inspiring moments this new year will bring.
