It Only Takes a Moment

Tuesday, May 20 ~ Albuquerque, New Mexico

As I drive home from a lunch date with someone I haven't seen in a decade, a song from the musical Hello, Dolly! insinuates itself into my mind. The song, "It Only Takes a Moment," is a paean to love at first sight, but it reminds me how a single instant can precipitate an earth-quaking, life-shaking change in direction.

One of the most profound examples of that in my life occurred ten years ago, just before my last encounter with today's lunch partner. It was May 1, at a Beltane bonfire in Sedona, Arizona.

It was at that bonfire that I met my former wife, a meet-up whose sparks rivaled those that leapt up from the fire pit that night. A week later, we moved in together; six weeks after that we were married. The six-plus years that followed were filled with love, joy and a cornucopia of unexpected miracles, not the least of which was my daughter, who made her own spark-filled appearance at 9:11 a.m. on 9/11/99.

It only takes a moment...

The song and the accompanying memory take on particular significance for me today, during a period in my life filled with uncertainty and flux, a time when doubts about my path creep into any opening they can find, a period of fear, anger and confusion, a time when inner guidance is unclear and seems to shift from moment to moment.

There are energetic reasons for these experiences, experiences that I know are not unique to me at this time. But, for me, the reasons are less important than how I choose to respond to all that they have set in motion in my life in recent weeks.

When I woke up on that life-changing May morning ten years ago, I was angry and frustrated. Little that I had felt guided to expect had come to pass. Here I was in a new country, uncertain why I was here, unclear about how to proceed, unnerved by the seeming disconnect between inner knowingness and outer manifestation.

In a single instant 12 hours later, my life was thrust into a new direction and nothing was ever the same again. It was as though I had been reborn into a new world that bore only a passing resemblance to my old one.

It only takes a moment...

Today, I remember that instant and others like it and I know that one moment -- one breath -- is all it takes for the miracle that changes everything to appear unannounced.

I remember, too, that the key to receiving that miracle is to stay present in each moment, moment-by-moment. For unless I'm present in the moment, I may not notice the miracle that is its fruit. If I'm locked in worry and anxiety about the future -- and even the moment after this one is part of that future -- I may not be available to the angel who delivers the miracle.

Not every life-changing moment is a happy one. The human journey is filled with miracle-filled moments masquerading as bad news. The instant when my marriage ended was one of those, as was the moment I learned that my mother had cancer.

Yet even those moments brought with them wondrous gifts that I could never have predicted, like flowers blooming among the desert cactus.

And so as I move through the challenges of these times, I try to stay present in each moment, remembering that a moment is all it takes -- for worlds to topple, new life to birth and miracles to bloom.

It only takes a moment.

Photos by Mark David Gerson: Sandia cactus flower, Albuquerque, New Mexico