“some moments are nice, some are
nicer, some are even worth
― Charles Bukowski
I’ve officially written down my perfect moment of the day for 6 months and 26 days. I have not missed a day. *and I kind of can’t believe it*
This means I wrote a perfect moment:
The day I found out I was officially divorced.
The day Russia invaded Ukraine.
The day Uvalde shooting happened.
The day I came out publicly.
The day Breonna Taylor’s killer was convicted.
The day Roe vs. Wade was overturned.
The days I had hard conversations
The days I had covid.
The days I was on vacations.
The days I felt depressed/stressed/anxious.
The days I had tons of kids over.
The days it was “just me”
Holidays, sick days, scary days, long days, busy days, lonely days, happy days, birthdays, normal/average/mundane days.
In over 180 entries- I’m starting to see some patterns.
Each “update” is done (usually once everyone is asleep and I’m reflecting) I do it before I go to sleep. It is becoming a strong habit for me now. I simply *tell the truth* about what I’m thinking and experiencing. It takes one sentence some nights and it takes eight other nights.
I love this little personal experiment for what it is showing me. I’ve had a few days where nothing I qualify as “perfect” happened at all. Where I had ZERO percent writing skills, clever phrasing or elaborative capability. But I wrote anyway. I just promised to tell the truth, and record them.
How has it changed me so far?
I’m still not sure. I think it more represents a “drop in the bucket” for me. Those daily actions lead to full pitchers if you do them long enough and consistently. This is a principle to life and simple physics really.
I do like that the category I chose to reapply this “drop in the bucket” metaphor. It is for something that highlights the beauty I find in being alive. If I had buckets and buckets of that kind of information… what would that do to my entire soul? Would I become delusionally happy? Would I begin to see everyday differently from the beginning knowing I will have to be accountable for something perfect at the end?
I don’t know.
But I have heard this ratio once that has been passed around proverbial fireplaces of wisdom circles that states: “For every 1 negative, 8 positives are required.” *If the exact numbers aren’t correct- that’s ok.*
Something about that line FEELS true enough. Maybe I’m just collecting reserves because I have witnessed how dark, hard, lonely, bitter and cold the world can be. Maybe this is a protective mechanism for my soul? Maybe it’s “light storage” for hard times? Maybe its just the empirical data I need to see to prove to myself that in one of my harder years there was still joy- and I can track it. (Opposition in all things and all that…)
Who cares that I don’t know exactly.
I’m not even done with this year long experiment, but I wanted to check in and let you know I’m not slowing down or feeling uninspired or “chore minded” about it either. I WAITED until I REALLY could see this kind of thing through.
I’ve had writing opportunities come in and out of my life the last 10 years. I’ve said no so many times because I knew I didn’t have capacity for what was asked of me.
But when I “did” get capacity for this project. I said: “I’M FREAKING DOING IT. RAIN OR SHINE. HIGH OR LOW. HOME OR AWAY. DAY OR NIGHT.”
So far. So good. Yay.
Thank you for coming along for the ride. I don’t know the destination point. I don’t know what tomorrows perfect moment will be, but I will write about it when it happens.
Adding just another drop to the bucket of light reserves I use to combat this sometimes dark world.
What do YOU do to combat the darkness?
I find a fully versatile assortment of things is required to merely “survive” some days. (This is just one of my “light buckets”)
I bet I write about other ones in the future. All in good time.
Thinking of you.
*one little drop at a time*