Moments

As I came home from work this evening I could smell the scent of cooking. Not of any kind of food in particular, just that mild yet distinctive aroma of warm oil, hot iron and smoke. I went out into back yard to find my dad seasoning our old barbeque and boiling some eggs at the same time. The fire and warmth, with dusk just closing in, gave me a strong, gentle sensation of peace. Such moments are being squeezed out of lives. It's not that the ingredients no longer exist or are becoming scarce - the problem is that we don't find the time to fit them in. These moments are not "productive" as we in the 21st century define the word. Most often they are spent doing almost nothing at all. In spite of this they have great value. For one, they refresh us at some level which a mere holiday or vacation can never reach, because their strength is not in leisure, but stillness. They also present us with the opportunity to think. Most of us do much less of this than we would like to assume. In reality much of our mental activity falls under one of two modes: cruise control or panic stations. But in these moments we are free to explore, to probe, to ponder - under absolutely no pressure. It's on these occasions, also, that true communication can occur. Not that this can't happen in any other time or place - but these times provide a smooth channel when soul reaches to soul. And, perhaps most importantly, they teach us that the really great things in this life (and, I believe, the next) are not won by straining and striving, but are given to us as beautiful and fragile gifts; all we have to decide is whether to cherish them, or to mindlessly throw them away.