Celebrating the Moments

The full moon was so bright that the Palm Trees couldn't sleep as they towered over us. Not that they would want to as we sat on a patio listening to Noah and Levi play the blues with our friend Marty wailing on the mouth harp. The music was really good and the beauty of the night was spectacular. Giant green Geckos darted on the ground in perfect rhythm with sand crabs. The waves breaking on the reef hummed quietly in the background. Flags on top of sails boats slapped in the Trade Winds keeping beat to the songs. Sarah leaned against me sitting on the bench of the picnic table. Denise sat across and Hugh was swaying to the tunes beside me. Perhaps thirty of us sat there listening enjoying the majestic beauty of such simplicity. Everybody was smiling.  I sat watching them for a while and the music became a background noise. It was one of those moments where everything muted, blending into one seamless experience. No one thing dominated another. Everything was one. Th e feel of Sarah's skin on mine, the music, the smiles, the dancing, the Palm Trees and Geckos under the full moon were all one joyous celebration of life. Detached objectivity is what I call it. It's a moment when you leave yourself ... like those stories of dying people who leave their bodies and float over themselves  taking it all in before flying away. Or when you find yourself sitting there staring off into some other universe and when you recognize it, twenty minutes have passed. It's when you are so connected to everything around you, and everything within you, that you become a spiritual person. Then the filters came back on. Several people had disappeared. A Song fizzled out just as it had started. A cloud covered the moon. Sarah shifted her body causing me to shift mine.  The moment was over. Most everything that had caused it was still present but suddenly it wasn't as simple or as joyous as it had just been a second ago. What happened to the gift of the moment? Spirituality is a funny thing. It is a fleeting moment of pure participation of the life that God gave us. It is worship. It is holy.  It's community with people and creation at the same time. It doesn't last long ... though I wished it did. Whispering in Sarah's ear I said, "Let's go." She seemed surprised. She knows how important music is to my life ... and the beach ... and these people ... and the full moon. Hugh was surprised as we stood. "You're leaving?" Nodding,  I smiled. He smiled back and returned to his moment. Sarah and I held hands and walked to the Chalet that home for one more day. And we celebrated our moments.