Look for the Eternal Moments

He gave me a gift and a card.

The gift was a sketchbook, and the card had a hand-drawn monkey in a Santa outfit. After that, we relaxed and talked. It was the easy kind of conversation that lifelong friends enjoy, where there is no competition, one-upmanship, or feigned interest.

There was something magical about that day in the coffee shop.

It was chilly outside, but the coffee shop was warm and comfortable. We talked about our work and families. We reminisced and laughed about the past, and our shared exploits. We both love coffee and savored our drinks as we nibbled on blueberry scones.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the entire experience was an eternal moment.

We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other

Every year in September the Scotts Valley Police Department holds an annual inspection.

It’s a comprehensive, two-day affair. The first day includes an inspection of every division in the police department. The Chief and Captains go through equipment, files, computer systems, communications infrastructure, evidence storage, and much more.

The second day involves a troop inspection.

The Chief invites a guest inspector, typically another police chief from an allied agency. Much like in the military, each officer is inspected to ensure uniforms, equipment, and professional standards are met. Family and friends are invited to watch the troop inspection, and afterward, there is coffee and socializing.

The entire point of the inspection is to ensure standards are upheld, identify areas where the department can improve, and show pride in our profession.

I spent my entire 26-year law enforcement career with the Scotts Valley Police Department.

I used to loathe inspection as it required a great deal of preparation and stress, but after the troop inspection, there was always this feeling of pride and accomplishment.

One inspection stands out.

I became the Chief of Police, and after sixteen years of being inspected, I was now the inspector. It was a beautiful morning.

 

Everyone was there. The Mayor, City Council, community leaders, department family members, and even my wife and son.

We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity. —Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

There was a moment, after the official inspection and my speech when everyone broke for coffee and conversation.

Everything went perfectly. I remember feeling the love and support of my wife and son. I felt pride and camaraderie with my police colleagues. And I swore I heard my father (who died years before) whisper to me, “Well done, Johnny. Well done.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was an eternal moment.

Seek always the blue moment

When the author Kent Nerburn was twenty-five years old, he was living in Germany and working in an antique restoration shop.

Nerburn had no money, no friends, and was ill, frightened, and terribly alone. But then the mother of the man Nerburn worked for took Nerburn aside.

She said she’d been watching him.

This woman, as a young girl, witnessed the Nazis round up and take away all the Jewish children in her classroom. She survived the war and became, as Nerburn described her, a “watcher and a survivor.”

In Nerburn’s book, “Letters to My Son: A Father’s Wisdom on Manhood, Life, and Love,” we read what this kind woman said to a young, lost, and alone Kent Nerburn:

I watch you, she said. I see the loneliness in your eyes. I watch your heart running away. You are like a lot of people. When life is too hard they try to look over the difficulty into the future. Or they long for the happiness of the past. Time is their enemy. The day they are living is their enemy. They want to die to the moment. They live only for the future or the past. But that is wrong.

I have a simple rule, she continued. Seek always the blue moment.

The woman told Nerburn that their conversation was a “blue moment.” Because at that moment, it was just the two of them, closer to each other than any other human beings. And such special, memorable blue moments of aliveness and presence, “…string together like pearls to make up your life.”

The woman, whose name was Frau Dupont, went on to tell Nerburn:

The blue moment can happen anytime or anyplace. It is a moment when you are truly alive to the world around you. It can be a moment of love or a moment of terror. You will know it only in memory. My childhood classmates are dead, but I have the blue moment when we looked in each other’s eyes.

Frau Dupont died of cancer years later, but Nerburn never forgot her words and wisdom. He wrote:

I know that if I abandon my own needs and expectations, the blue moment will come. I have had blue moments while my heart was broken. I have had them when I was sitting idly drinking a cup of coffee listening to the birds outside my window. I have had them while talking with complete strangers. They come on like torrents of grace, unexpected, unannounced, suffusing life with a warmth and truth that will live forever in my memory. They are the gift of the spirit.

What Nerburn describes as blue moments I identify as eternal moments.

That day in the coffee shop with my friend Seth was an eternal moment. So was that special day at the police department inspection. Both events happened years ago, but they are forever emblazoned in my soul.

The key is to be present.

Still your heart and allow yourself to become subsumed in the moment.

Find your eternity in each moment

I retired from my law enforcement career after twenty-six years and moved out of state.

I missed my colleagues and the old way of life, but I yearned to embark on a new path as a writer and artist. I wasn’t sure what the future would hold, and at times I felt uncertain.

One weekend, friends invited my wife and me to picnic with them in the scenic beauty of Mt. Charleston, which is less than an hour from our home in Southern Nevada.

You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. —Henry David Thoreau

We found a lovely meadow and set up our camp chairs and picnic items. The sun was shining and a cool breeze rustled through the trees and grass. We enjoyed our lunch, chatted for a bit, and everyone settled into a contented silence.

And then something magical happened.

Wild horses started to come down into the meadow from their higher mountain range. There were even a couple of foals who cautiously emerged from the brush.

 

Everyone in our little group sat silently, enjoying the equine show, and occasionally smiling at one another, wordlessly acknowledging the enchantment of the moment. An experience none of us will forget.

It was another eternal moment.

Look for these eternal moments in your life. All you have to do is slow down, still your heart, and be present. So much of our lives are lost to rushing, distraction, digital noise, and the frenetic pace of daily living.

Yes, some of this can’t be helped.

Life is unpredictable and full of obligations, commitments, and responsibilities.But there’s magic, too. Often found in unlikely things and unexpected places. Like monkey mugs and police inspections and wild horse meadows.

Still your heart. Be present. Allow the eternal moments to unfold.

Because this is where the magic of life is found.

Before you go

I’m John P. Weiss. I write elegant stories and essays about life. If you enjoyed this piece, check out my free weekend newsletter, The Saturday Letters.