I attended an Ignite Boulder speech months ago. Months ago and I still can’t, can’t, can’t get this speech-topic out of my head: How much negative space do you have in your life?
I return to the question and immediately notice the tension that flows, like coarse waves, over my narrow shoulders, pooling around my lower back, through my stomach and into my brain stem. I am tense, stressed, hot and bothered. And it’s not just me, I know many, many stress-balls. Everyone I meet seems to reflect this state of icky-being.
Life is bliss, I was told as a child. A disappointing non-reality, indeed.
Or is it…?
There are beloved moments where I am cleansed of all discomfort and return to that state, space, perception of who I am and the reality that is mine. Bliss. Pure, pure, pure happiness. Without reason, without end. Magical bliss.
It happens on Sunday mornings, over veggie-sausage dipped in maple syrup, in the eyes of my gorgeous James Dean. It happens 8 minutes into a 4-mile run—when that sticky, addicting stuff called adrenaline, pump-pump-pumps up the jam. It happens deep in a full belly-breath, through the shake of a yoga pose, sucking on the first bit of double chocolate ice cream. Little bits of whoa, noticed and enjoyed.
Bliss happens when I make time to experience it.
I forget, sometimes, about my bliss and how accessible it is. How many sources there are and how it is really (and always) up to me to make time for happiness, make time for “me-moments.” To make time for bliss.
Now I’m curious: In your busy everyday life, how do you strive for balance?