The Magic of Moments
If you grew up in the 90s like me, you might remember Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. What made me love the story and portrayal of Belle the most, was her fascination with story telling and books. It was a language my young self understood innately. I loved our tiny village library around the corner from my house. And I loved that immense, cartoon castle library from Beauty and the Beast just as much. With book shelves towering so high you would need a ladder to reach them. The explorer completely engulfed by 360° of pages upon pages of adventure, thought and art. As an adult, I found a similar version at the Parliamentary library in Ottawa that dropped my jaw and left me inspired after standing just a moment in its entrance. I later re-captured childhood memories of village library corners in the tranquil nooks of the ancient Shakespeare & Co. bookstore in Paris. Libraries of all sizes have always called to me somewhere deeply that, ironically, can’t quite be expressed in words. For me, the joy of books and libraries meets the magic of collecting moments, in my mind. These images of book spaces I’ve loved throughout my life are the perfect locale for keeping beautiful moments. Whether real or cartooned, I still hold them in my mind. I can go to my grand expanse of ladders and sky high shelves, or I can nestle away under the stairs to pull out a beautiful, collected moment or put one away for safe-keeping.
About the magic I’ve discovered: It’s not unrelated to fairy tales. It stops time and makes me more alive. It revives me like sprinkling fairy dust on Wendy makes her fly. Maybe it’s the change in season – fresh snow blanketing sidewalks and branches, quieting the neighbourhood and sparkling in sunlight that peaks through newly emptied snow clouds – but I’ve been thinking about this magic that exists even when the world around me feels void of it.
At first, it felt unsettling to write about collecting magical, joy-filled moments when there are so many things not right in here and out there. I was feeling the reality of unrighted wrongs, and that made it a little uncomfortable to express simple joy. For Christians, it’s currently the season of Advent. The season of waiting, reflecting and being “in the darkness”. It sounds ominous, but in fact is about hope, love, peace and joy. We’re waiting for things to be made right. But the waiting isn’t passive. Have you considered that? A week or so ago, I was re-inspired by the magical gift of collecting moments. All it was, was a good hair day that I happened to take in and appreciate. You can giggle if you’d like. But I decided it’s ok to feel the magic of a moment even if it’s seemingly trivial. It’s about the moments that lift you. They’re your own! But I soon felt the tension of “things are not right” juxtaposed against the simple beauty of our lives. I asked myself, does acknowledging beauty mean I’m disregarding injustice, chaos and the importance of holding space for pain? Of course, the answer is No. In fact, collecting moments is one way I right wrongs in the world around me. I can’t carry or fix all of the troubles in here and out there. But I have the honour of experiencing and collecting and sharing. Every time I enjoy the nighttime skyline. When I cry with coworkers about a shared patient experience. The first time I hold a friend’s newborn baby. When I said “I love you” and you said it back. The sound, smell, colours and feel of the beach at home, overflowing with childhood memories. When I’m recognized for my work, or I recognize others and it makes us all grow a little more. As we literally and physically come around another to support them in a trying time. Letting a book take me away to another world through another’s eyes. Sharing complex tears of joy, grief and gratefulness with family in the midst of life letting go. Laughter with friends as we share food and love around a table. The intricate details of a snowflake that bring me peace and help me let go in a way my mind cannot adequately comprehend.
Magic. It’s all magic. And it’s worth collecting.
Time is so strange. It measures the same every time, as far as seconds and minutes go. Moments pass us by, flying too fast to catch, or unnoticed altogether. It can be tough to grasp and hold onto no matter how badly we want to. Until, finally, that moment happens when time slows to a halt, you float out of your body and you see the beautiful moment unfold. Somehow, you grab the time frame by its corners and hold tightly. You freeze time, just for a moment, long enough to collect it. Long enough to carefully fold in the edges, hold it close to your chest, and breathe it in – whether smiles or tears or both – before storing it away carefully, lovingly, on the shelf.
What are the moments that cause you pause?
What do they tell you? About yourself. About your world. About what ignites you, what brings you alive.
Don’t forget to freeze time every now and then, especially in this holiday season. Don’t let the simple, or the immense, joys pass you by. They’re worth collecting.