A Perfect

Have you ever experienced serenity? A moment in time, or a day, or a week, or a year, or possibly even your whole life, where the sole feeling that dominates you is one of utter placidity, where your worries and wants are nonexistent because there is nothing more for you to do in your moment than enjoy it?

I experienced one once. It was my last night in London after a hectic and storied year of growth and change, and I leaned out my window, taking in the city one last time. The sky above was cloudy and just a bit cool for the end of summer, but the city was in full swing below. Heat rose from the laughter and joy of the people on their nights out, which was more than enough to keep warm the drunken idiot who danced when only he could hear the music.

The lights gleamed off the clouds above, bathing the entire city in gold, and I just leaned on my windowsill and breathed it all in. The temperature of the air, the laughter from below chirping like birdsong, the kingdom of London glowing in the night; it was a perfect ending.

But, of course, the credits didn't roll, the audience didn't stand up and stretch their legs, and the movie theater employee didn't sweep up the stray bits of popcorn and candy that slipped from the patrons' buttery fingers. My life went on after that moment.

For the past 2 years I've been running a personal marathon to reclaim that moment, but not to relive it; rather, that moment gave me the clarity to realize just what road I'd be running for the rest of my life. It gave me a general direction, and since then, I've been better fine-tuning my compass to right my way.

Perhaps it's just because I've hit my quarter-life crisis head-on; after all, suddenly so many of my friends are in long-term relationships, or having children, or maintaining steady jobs and doing other things while I'm still thinking about how cool it would be if DC introduced Darkseid into their cinematic universe. That's not to say that I haven't done or accomplished things in my life; to the contrary, whenever I tell people about my experiences they actually seem legitimately impressed.

But of all the things I've done, nothing will strike me as more important than bringing back that feeling of peace. Maybe it's a taste of Buddhism's nirvana, where all wants and needs are released and the soul is at peace for eternity, or maybe it's just the knowledge that I can be that content in my life. There is no panacea for it; one person's cure will usually only work for them, so here's to stumbling blindly through my life and feeling the walls for clues until I see an inkling of light.

E.A.