best moment

[lorin]

What was your best moment? That moment that inspired you, that moment that released you? That one moment that defined you. Have you had a best moment or had you had a few best moments?


My best moment was standing on a cliff in Portugal. The sun was brilliant blue, I was looking down at some ancient stairs cut into the cliffs that led down to the crystal blue grottos below. I watched ancient fisherman throwing lines off the cliff to catch fish exactly the way it had been done for a thousand years. The warm winds were so strong you could lean your entire weight against it and not fall. And I thought that a thousand years ago the same wind beat against these same shores. I smelled the salt encrusted sardines roasting on a small grill with three or four old weathered fisherman tending the tiny fire just as fishermen must have prepared their lunches over generations.

Slowly a sense of continuity came over me. There are times I am sure we all feel we have lost our place in this world, lost in millions of people, in millions of cities, in millions of mega bytes of data. At that moment I felt I was a member of small community, that I belonged. With that sense of continuity came an overwhelming feeling of possibility and promise.

It was a wonderful moment.

So what was your best moment? I am being purposely vague, after all, why confine the best moment.

[hierachy]

That sounds amazing, lorin!

Ah best moment... how long is a moment? Tricking is the best thing that ever happened to me.

[Shuram Gudatetris]

I was laying in my bathtub, bleeding profusely from the veins I had sliced open, and I was thinking about how stupid people were. I was thinking about how nobody I knew had any idea of why I was killing myself, and it made me think of how people would postulate stupid theories regarding my actions, and stupid excuses for my choice.

So I crawled out of the tub and bled all over my apartment to get a notebook, because I wanted to explain a few things while I still could. I found a notebook, and a pen. I had always been passionate about writing, and when I put the pen to the paper, floodgates in my mind poured open. I became very passionate about all of the feelings and fears that led me to where I was, and went into great detail about what I had been experiencing for those last few years.

I had always thought that I was strong because I never cried, never talked to anyone about how I was feeling. For many years I had been completely and utterly alone, with no outlet for my emotions other than self-abuse. I had always thought myself too much of a coward to kill myself, but I finally thought I was ready. Yet, as I was finishing saying all of the things I had needed to say, as everything I was sat before me fully explained on paper, I came to the realization that there was nothing noble or brave about what I was doing.

Rather than discovering that I was finally brave enough and strong enough to kill myself, I discovered what I truly was: a miserable, pathetic weakling. And I hated that feeling. I already hated myself intensely, because I thought I was stupid and worthless. But it was at that moment when I realized that if I truly was worthless, it was only because I was such a weakling, such a coward.

Damn it! I wanted to fight! I suddenly wanted to prove myself to the world. I despised the little weakling who was sitting in his apartment bleeding to death by his own hand. Fight! damn it, Fight!


And that was the turning point of my life. I vowed to become strong enough to live my life. Not to just survive it, but LIVE it.

Things didn't change right away. I hit some pretty bad lows after that. But I talked to a couple people about what was going inside of me, which was excruciatingly humiliating. But those feelings had been bottled up for many years, never spoken out loud before. And beyond that, I forced myself to face my fears. It took years to get to where I needed to be, but I more or less made it . . . made myself strong enough to live.

Since then I have loved and lost. I have kicked a couple of addictions that were holding me back in life. I continually challenge myself to become better at anything I realize I can become better at. I feel that this will be a neverending process until I die.

Really, what I learned to do after that experience is to seize the day. Carpe diem, baby! My pastor put it another way when I was going through religious/marriage counseling: man's job on this planet is to subdue the world. That's what I try to do everyday, subdue a little more of the world around me.

Sorry if this might seem like a negative experience, but the moment I decided that I wanted to fight for my happiness, that I wanted to LIVE, that was my greatest moment.

[lorin]

I was laying in my bathtub, bleeding profusely from the veins I had sliced open, and I was thinking about how stupid people were. I was thinking about how nobody I knew had any idea of why I was killing myself, and it made me think of how people would postulate stupid theories regarding my actions, and stupid excuses for my choice.

So I crawled out of the tub and bled all over my apartment to get a notebook, because I wanted to explain a few things while I still could. I found a notebook, and a pen. I had always been passionate about writing, and when I put the pen to the paper, floodgates in my mind poured open. I became very passionate about all of the feelings and fears that led me to where I was, and went into great detail about what I had been experiencing for those last few years.

I had always thought that I was strong because I never cried, never talked to anyone about how I was feeling. For many years I had been completely and utterly alone, with no outlet for my emotions other than self-abuse. I had always thought myself too much of a coward to kill myself, but I finally thought I was ready. Yet, as I was finishing saying all of the things I had needed to say, as everything I was sat before me fully explained on paper, I came to the realization that there was nothing noble or brave about what I was doing.

Rather than discovering that I was finally brave enough and strong enough to kill myself, I discovered what I truly was: a miserable, pathetic weakling. And I hated that feeling. I already hated myself intensely, because I thought I was stupid and worthless. But it was at that moment when I realized that if I truly was worthless, it was only because I was such a weakling, such a coward.

Damn it! I wanted to fight! I suddenly wanted to prove myself to the world. I despised the little weakling who was sitting in his apartment bleeding to death by his own hand. Fight! damn it, Fight!


And that was the turning point of my life. I vowed to become strong enough to live my life. Not to just survive it, but LIVE it.

Things didn't change right away. I hit some pretty bad lows after that. But I talked to a couple people about what was going inside of me, which was excruciatingly humiliating. But those feelings had been bottled up for many years, never spoken out loud before. And beyond that, I forced myself to face my fears. It took years to get to where I needed to be, but I more or less made it . . . made myself strong enough to live.

Since then I have loved and lost. I have kicked a couple of addictions that were holding me back in life. I continually challenge myself to become better at anything I realize I can become better at. I feel that this will be a neverending process until I die.

Really, what I learned to do after that experience is to seize the day. Carpe diem, baby! My pastor put it another way when I was going through religious/marriage counseling: man's job on this planet is to subdue the world. That's what I try to do everyday, subdue a little more of the world around me.

Sorry if this might seem like a negative experience, but the moment I decided that I wanted to fight for my happiness, that I wanted to LIVE, that was my greatest moment.

that is not negative, that is beautiful and real. and you are courageous for telling that story. Thank you.

[CovenantJr]

Moments can't get much more positive than realising you want to live and be happy. I'm moved that you felt comfortable enough to share something so personal with us. Thank you for that.

I will share my moment if and when I have one.

[Avatar]

I've had great moments. Moments of enlightenment and epiphany, moments of inspiration. They're fleeting, but the memory of the feelings they provoked remains marvellous, even if the feeling itself was ephemeral.

--A

[Loredoctor]

Arriving in London and travelling through the tube, walking through Bayswater through light rain to find my (then) girlfriend. Then, an hour later - walking through Hyde Park. It was a beautiful day.

[Fist and Faith]

Watching my three children being born likely rates way up there, eh? (The experience is probably more wonderful for the father watching than the mother birthing.) Some moments of indescribable love with my wife. (Not necessarily while making love, but yeah, sometimes then.) Being in places of intense natural beauty.

But let's not forget our goal, everyone! It's an attitude. An outlook. What is our best moment? Every single one! Said very well in Dan Millman's Way of the Peaceful Warrior:

One time I finished my best-ever pommel horse routine and walked over happily to take the tape off my wrists. Soc beckoned me and said, “The routine looked satisfactory, but you did a very sloppy job taking the tape off. Remember, every-moment satori.”

Or from the fantastic interpretation of the 10 Commandments, in Neale Donald Walsch's Conversations with God.

3. You shall remember to keep a day for Me, and you shall call it holy. This, so that you do not long stay in your illusion, but cause yourself to remember who and what you are. And then shall you soon call every day the Sabbath, and every moment holy.

And a couple longer quotes.

Magister Ludi, by Hermann Hesse:

I suddenly realized that in the language, or at any rate in the spirit of the Glass Bead Game, everything actually was all-meaningful, that every symbol and combination of symbols led not hither and yon, not to single examples, experiments, and proofs, but into the center, the mystery and innermost heart of the world, into primal knowledge. Every transition from major to minor in a sonata, every transformation of a myth or a religious cult, every classical or artistic formulation was, I realized in that flashing moment, if seen with a truly meditative mind, nothing but a direct route into the interior of the cosmic mystery, where in the alternation between inhaling and exhaling, between heaven and earth, between Yin and Yang, holiness is forever being created.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Phaedrus attempted to climb a mountain, but failed:

He never reached the mountain. After the third day he gave up, exhausted, and the pilgrimage went on without him. He said he had the physical strength but that physical strength wasn’t enough. He had the intellectual motivation but that wasn’t enough either. He didn’t think he had been arrogant but thought that he was undertaking the pilgrimage to broaden his experience, to gain understanding for himself. He was trying to use the mountain for his own purposes and the pilgrimage too. He regarded himself as the fixed entity, not the pilgrimage or the mountain, and thus wasn’t ready for it. He speculated that the other pilgrims, the ones who reached the mountain, probably sensed the holiness of the mountain so intensely that each footstep was an act of devotion, an act of submission to this holiness. The holiness of the mountain infused into their own spirits enabled them to endure far more than anything he, with his greater physical strength, could take. To the untrained eye ego-climbing and selfless climbing may appear identical. Both kinds of climbers place one foot in front of the other. Both breathe in and out at the same rate. Both stop when tired. Both go forward when rested. But what a difference! The ego-climber is like an instrument that’s out of adjustment. He puts his foot down an instant too soon or too late. He’s likely to miss a beautiful passage of sunlight through the trees. He goes on when the sloppiness of his step shows he’s tired. He rests at odd times. He looks up the trail trying to see what’s ahead even when he knows what’s ahead because he just looked a second before. He goes too fast or too slow for the conditions and when he talks his talk is forever about somewhere else, something else. He’s here but he’s not here. He rejects the here, is unhappy with it, wants to be farther up the trail but when he gets there will be just as unhappy because then it will be ‘here’. What he’s looking for, what he wants, is all around him, but he doesn’t want that because it is all around him. Every step’s an effort, both physically and spiritually, because he imagines his goal to be external and distant.

[matrixman]

Great quotes, Fist. Some day, I should check out those books.

Shuram, that is an extraordinary story. That's going above and beyond the requirements of this thread, so as Cov said, thank you for sharing something so deeply personal.

A musical epiphany: Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, specifically the cosmic opening movement. I had trouble grasping the "meaning" of that music - it was "closed" to me, yet it wouldn't let go of me. I kept thinking about it. Then one day, the music's purpose or design - whatever you wish to call it - was made apparent to me, like a shaft of light that suddenly illuminates a cathedral's grand architecture. It was as if Beethoven himself had come by and imparted his vision, and the music's power and glory swept through me. For a long time after, I regarded the first movement of Beethoven's Ninth as the greatest 15 minutes of music I had ever heard.

[JazFusion]

I think the one that is most obvious and cliche is not when I gave birth to my son, but when I actually got to hold him.

I had an emergency c-section. It was a terrifying experience. The operating room is so sterile and uninviting. Laying on the operating table I kept thinking and praying, "This isn't how it's supposed to be. Please God, don't take my son away from me. Take me instead". I had almost lost him once at 12 weeks when I started hemorrhaging and was rushed to the emergency room. I'd have given my life just to see him breathe.

I felt so nauseated and was about to puke. The anesthesiologist was the only person that was telling me it was going to be ok. When he told me they pulled my son from my womb, I heard nothing. And then nothing.

And nothing. And nothing. And nothing.

I don't recall how long it was until he screamed. Minutes could have passed, or seconds; it literally seemed like a lifetime. Then I heard him scream.

And I broke down sobbing. They had to remove my oxygen mask because I was sobbing so much.

I wasn't able to hold him until about an hour after he was born. I held him; this tiny person in my arms. This little pink thing that grew inside me for nine months. This beautiful little boy I almost lost. This little chubby face with the onyx eyes that I promised to love and to protect forever and ever.

I cried more. I still cry.

It was probably the most life defining moment I've ever had. It was certainly the most beautiful.

[Worm of Despite]

Arriving in London and travelling through the tube, walking through Bayswater through light rain to find my (then) girlfriend. Then, an hour later - walking through Hyde Park. It was a beautiful day.

I have some wonderful memories of my London visit... Unfortunately no girlfriends found (though flirtations were rampant!).

I'd say my greatest moment. Hrm. Finishing my novel, Flat Earth, and the feeling of writing its last closing paragraph—a mixture of serene, floating grace (I felt like I was playing a piano instead of typing), sheer, Heaven-gazing adrenaline and a satisfaction that was just plain flooring. I mean; I’ve read closing paragraphs to books and been on a high, but writing one—and on a book you worked on for two years? Unreal.

My 2nd best moment—probably one of my first proofreads of Fear of God (part of aforementioned book), and one of its more emotional chapters. It made me cry, and it felt both sad and satisfying.

My other moment—some undetermined date when I became confident in myself as a student and excelled in college, pretty much becoming the King of the English department. It was quite an exhilarating four years of finding my niche and a sense of justification—both in my work ethic and the recognition of my abilities after having struggled in the past for using my imagination and ignoring such trivial things as homework.

My future best moment? I dunno—if this chick (well, woman, really) I'm having lunch with soon happens to like me half as much as I like her. Cause women are more important than writing. The good ones, anyway. Not the crazies.

[Infelice]

My best moment is a bit too painful to talk about atm. It wasnt a painful experience, its just painful to remember

[lorin]

My best moment is a bit too painful to talk about atm. It wasnt a painful experience, its just painful to remember

I get this. The experience I relayed above is painful for me now yet it was so beautiful. I think the pain comes from the loss of the moment and it's possibilities. And the fact that it didn't have to be lost.

[Vraith]

One of my best involved a particular performance of the musical "Hair," but I think I posted that somewhere already [is there a thread about band/performance experiences? I think there is, I think it's there...maybe].
Another involved a very long hike through the desert with my dog, and the weekend at the hotsprings there...I think I posted that somewhere, too.
But I have to give a nod of familiarity and "it's a small world" to Lore, Lorin, and Infelice's implied.

[Cagliostro]

Sorry if this might seem like a negative experience, but the moment I decided that I wanted to fight for my happiness, that I wanted to LIVE, that was my greatest moment.

It's a pity that sometimes we have to hit our own bottom line before we realize what it is to live.

For me, there have been several. Some I can pinpoint certain moments, and others were much more of a gradual thing.

One of the first was being invited to Arkansas to help a friend pass the time while working the summer at his dad's canoe rental business. There I was introduced to Covenant, and fell in love for the first time (unrequited), developed a love of nature, and started to become better friends with a guy that later became my best friend, advancing from "that guy I enjoy hanging out with" to "friend I can actually talk to." I fell for his cousin during the 4th of July, and thought about her all that night - I couldn't get her out of my mind. The next summer I wanted to be the same, and I went out to visit him again, but the cousin had to work that 4th of July, so I was crushed. But that second summer was when my friend and I had our first "adult conversation."

Another significant one was when I decided I was sick to death of being in band (especially since I wasn't an especially good trumpet player who got talked into playing baritone, and then had to do marching band if I wanted to stay in band), and I decided to not take it again. My mom then walked me over to the vocal music department, saying that I had to do something musical in school. I thank my mom to this day for doing that, as I always had a good voice, but thought the vocal music people were a buncha geeks. Well, they were, but less so than the band geeks. I felt considerably more confident in vocal music, and due to this was invited to be in a rock band, which I had always wanted to do.

One of the other life changers is when a girl I had a crush on but was way out of my league suggested I listen to the weird college radio station that only comes on late at night, "because they occasionally play Kate Bush." It was kinda like how some describe when rock and roll came along in the 50's. The music my sisters introduced me to that few other people at the time (that I knew anyway) were listening to, and proved to be the backbone for this music. Much of it was very exotic, a lot very experimental, and some of it a bit safe and close to top 40, but with lyrics and ideas behind it that nobody on Top 40 was doing.
The dominos fell from there - it changed my listening habits, my style, and typically what I'd do on weekends. When my sister forced me to go to an all-age show of Brian Brain at a place within walking distance, I wasn't immediately blown away, especially since I still didn't know how to approach women. But I found I could show up there, be invisible if I wanted to, or, after one night after drinking a bit of illegally smuggled beer from my brother-in-law's party, actually finding the (liquid) courage to talk to others, that this group of "punk weirdos" were actually pretty nice and accepting. And suddenly I had a heap of friends, and women who actually seemed interested in me, and some were especially pretty too.

[StevieG]

Cag, strangely enough, I was a trumpet player, and that influenced my life a lot! I was good at trumpet, good at soccer, cricket, school etc etc. But the main thing I wasn't good at was socialising - girls, being comfortable around them, blah blah.

So, some of my best moments:

- my first girlfriend saying "yes" after I finally conjured the courage to ask her out - shudder, how I struggled with that!

- getting my driver's licence. The freedom!

- getting my driver's licence back after a drink driving offence (8 months). It not only taught me the responsibility of my actions, but also the appreciation of driving!

- discovering a love for music in my teens.

- getting married on the beach.

- the birth of my first (and second) child. You just don't f*cking understand until you've experienced it!

I'm sure there's more...

[Cagliostro]

- the birth of my first (and second) child. You just don't f*cking understand until you've experienced it!

Absolutely, although I've only had the one, and am still uncertain how this is going to change me as a person yet. I've certainly become less selfish and more patient.

[StevieG]

For me it was the realisation that it's not just about ME. So as you say, less selfish. Less selfish in a big way. I don't know if it is totally voluntary, but it gives you a new perspective on life...

[peter]

Arriving in London and travelling through the tube, walking through Bayswater through light rain to find my (then) girlfriend. Then, an hour later - walking through Hyde Park. It was a beautiful day.

Sorry Loremaster - Doesn't count. We are talking 'moments' here

Difficult one - The moment I realised I could relax on a galloping horse and not fall off; the moment the sun bust through and I saw the 'diamond ring' effect at a total eclipse of the sun; the moment I was born (can't remember it though); the moment the Rolling Stones started to play live when I was 19yo. Wow - too many best moments to choose from. (Easier maybe to choose the worst ).

[Zarathustra]

I think the one that is most obvious and cliche is not when I gave birth to my son, but when I actually got to hold him.
...
And nothing. And nothing. And nothing.

I don't recall how long it was until he screamed. Minutes could have passed, or seconds; it literally seemed like a lifetime. Then I heard him scream.

And I broke down sobbing. They had to remove my oxygen mask because I was sobbing so much.

Those moments are "cliche" becuse they're true. When I heard my son cry for the first time, it was like Terisa's horns. [Do I really have to say it? ... Mordant's Need]

The moment I realised I could relax on a galloping horse and not fall off

Dude, that's awesome. I had a similar experience spelunking, when I was chest-deep in mud with my legs twisted crazily, and realized ... I'm not going to die in this cave. Everything is okay. Breathe. Relax. Be.