Thursday 21 April 2016

The Moment of Happiness

Travelling at high speed with a friend yesterday I discovered I was happy.  Not ecstatically pleasured, but simply happy.  I'd done a little writing and signed it off, and was now on my way to go walking with him in the sunshine.  He drives very fast and while he's much safer driving at that speed than I would be, it was clear that any mistake or mechanical failure could be instantly fatal.  No messing about in hospital; straight to the morgue.  Yet if I had to go, then I'd rather it be while I was happy.  The prospect of instant death was irrelevant: what mattered was the moment, the happy moment.  I could have kissed him.  But I didn't, not while he was driving!

It occurred to me that I'm often happy but don't realise it.  I'm too busy, pressing on to the next thing or worrying about the last one.  Now I was content to relax and enjoy each moment as it came, the hedgerows whizzing past, glimpses of countryside, snatches of birdsong.  Living - for the moment - in the moment.  And that's all it took.


We had a pleasant, hilly walk, a good pub meal, and saw the sunset from the garden of the pub.  Then he drove us home.  At high speed.