Moments Matter
by Alan Cohen

How much time does it take to love? How long do you need for healing? How much do you need to say to communicate? The answer to all these questions is the same: A MOMENT.

What is a moment? Is it a measure of time, or an experience of the heart? Do you count it in seconds, or by the depth at which it touches your soul? Is it something you put in a box and try to replicate, or is it a fragrance that wafts on the wind from an unseen flower, never to come again in exactly the same way, forcing you hold it precious not in your hand, but with your sacred spirit?

The real treasures of life come not in seconds or hours, but in holy moments. All relationships, whether friendship, romantic, sexual, business, or spiritual, are built on moments of connection. The value of relationship is determined not by the quantity of hours, but the quality of moments. One moment of true love is far more valuable than a lifetime of empty form.

One summer when I was in my early teens, I went to visit my cousin at his home in Wilmington, Delaware. One afternoon his family took me to the neighborhood pool, where we sat on beach chairs next to a high school teacher named Mr. Simmons. When the others had gone into the pool, I was left to sit with Mr. Simmons, who gently turned to me and asked some questions about who I was, what I was interested in, and what I wanted to do with my life.

As I answered Mr. Simmon's questions, I noticed a feeling well up within me that I had not felt in a long, long, time - if ever. I felt loved, accepted, and supported; that my dreams were good and valuable; that I was innocent and worthy of having what I wanted. My life at that time was so filled with judgment, fear, and awkwardness, that my feelings with Mr. Simmons stood out by contrast like a bright ray of light shining through a stormy cloud-filled sky. Our conversation lasted maybe five or ten minutes, after which I excused myself and jumped into the pool.

But something about me was different - forever. I had experienced a moment of unconditional love, and that changed the course of my life. In a sea of the weirdness that surrounded me, a loving hand had been extended to me, as if to say, "Don't give up on yourself. There is more, because you are more."

While Mr. Simmons never said anything profound to me, he gave me unconditional love. He listened to me and he took me seriously. Now, over 35 years later, I remember my moment with Mr. Simmons. I never saw him again and never shall. But he changed my life.

If we play with the words "moment" and "second" we find a key to their relative meanings. The adjective that derives from "moment" is "momentous." When you fully absorb the gift of a moment, you have a momentous experience, often it will be life-changing.

The adjective stemming from "second" is "secondary" - not of primary importance. The soul, which thrives on becoming one with experience, lives in moments, while the mind, which thrives on dissecting experience, lives in time, which is secondary.

The wonderful thing about moments is that the day is full of them! (The horrible thing about seconds is that you never have enough of them!) As I keep my heart open to precious moments throughout the day, I coast on a stream of miracles. Yesterday as I was returning to my car in town, busy to get somewhere, I noticed four little oriental children looking into my car window at my little dog standing on the passenger seat with his nose against the window.

My first impulse was to get in the car and drive away to my next errand, but something in me said, "Don't miss this moment." So I opened the passenger door, took Munchie out, and placed him on the sidewalk in front of these adorable little Chinese kids, ages three to six, all with the same t-shirts and Buster Brown haircuts. They squatted down, and amidst plentiful giggles and squeaks, petted Munchie (who was in ecstasy). As I looked at these children's faces my heart melted and I rejoiced in their glee. Their innocent appreciation invited me into their moment of heaven, and I received it. After few minutes I put Munch back in the car and we said goodby, but as I drove away my day was different. Funny, after a whole day of doingness, that is the only moment I remember. (Someone once told me, "The best parts of my day are the interruptions.")

During this month dedicated to love and lovers, what moments can you touch? Is your relationship about getting somewhere, or being somewhere? If you are seeking love, you will never get enough, but if you are finding love, you will always have plenty to share. It's all a matter of moments. §