This Gift Moment

I stood casually in the lobby of my Temple chatting with friends before an evening event.

All of us had moved to Minneapolis within the last couple of years from various places on the American map.  One couple had relocated only last week.

How did we get to this moment? I wondered with awe, knowing each of us had a powerful story that brought us to the precise place of standing in that lobby. 

In fact, the chances that we’d all be in the same place at the same time were incalculable given the miracles that had to occur for the moment to exist.  These were major miracles like financial windfall, marital reinvention, a rare real estate opportunity. 

Some dreamed of this moment.  Some never saw it coming.

Earlier that day, my sister shared moments of grace and protection—being able to say goodbye to someone who’s in Hospice, being helped by cheerful doctors and nurses who tended an injury she’d sustained in the kitchen.

A friend texted to thank me for referring her to a health care practitioner and another friend saying she had a special experience to share when I had time. 

My husband and I considered an overseas adventure trip while, outside the front window, our next door neighbor walked her dog quickly in subzero temperatures.

This movement of people and places, beginnings and endings, all in motion as if part of one large dance fascinates me.

If we could see from above, what would the pattern look like? 

I believe it would be mind-blowing.

We make choices based on the intention we set for our lives.  And Life responds by bringing us people, pets, experiences and opportunities in alignment with that intention.

Our ability to perceive the gift of this moment is all we can truly lay claim to in this life.  The future doesn’t exist; the past is a whisper.  But the present breath is alive.  Are we?

The next time you’re casually standing with friends in a parking lot or strangers in a grocery store line, gathered with co-workers at a meeting or with family at a dinner table, you may want to take a moment to breathe in the gift.  This is Life. 

P.S.  As an aside, I was challenged to find a photo of people taken from above to accompany this blog.  Aerial shots of landscapes are plentiful, but not of people. 

What does that say about the viewpoint from which we see ourselves?  And what could we learn by getting above to look upon our lives below?

Photo by Fritz Olenberger