Did you ever have one of those days that, somehow, felt “perfect”? I’m talking about a day when the sun seems a bit brighter, the sky is a bit more blue, and all is right with the world. It’s a day when you sing out loud as you’re driving to work or going about your errands — not even because you particularly want to, but because you just can’t help yourself. There’s too much happiness and good feeling welling up inside, and it’s impossible to keep some of it from spilling out.
I love days like that. They are alive with possibility and Truth. And I do mean “Truth”, with a big “T”, because it feels like you can grasp hold of the truths about yourself and your life and your dreams. It’s an exciting prospect, particularly since I think so many of us spend quite a bit of our time wondering just what those things are; we don’t dare to dream of touching our fondest wishes, let alone grabbing hold of them and truly making them ours. On those days when perfection comes along for the ride, anything is possible. No project is too far-fetched, no idea is too ridiculous, no dream is too small (or too large!). What a beautiful and amazing thing. It’s impossible not to laugh out loud — repeatedly, just for the fun of hearing the sounds rolling along on the breeze.
I had one of those days just a couple of days ago. I felt special. Invincible, even. It was as if, for one shining moment, all my doubts and insecurities faded away. I told myself I really could do anything I set out to do, and I believed it. I could finish my darn book. I could not only finish it, but I could write something wonderful, that other people would want to read. I could tackle the projects that have been sitting around my house for forever and a day. I could gear up to change my eating and exercise habits and lose this weight I’ve wanted to take off for so long now. And there was this feeling of euphoria in there, too: like, somehow, I could do much, much more than those simple things. For that day, it was as if there was no limit to where my mind could go and to what I could accomplish. My abilities reached even further than my tiny dreams, and the world was mine — dangling at my fingertips like a lovely plaything to be treasured.
I suppose those days should freak me out a little bit. After all, they are not the norm, and, as I sit here and write out my thoughts, I realize I sound more than a little bit nuts when describing the whole experience. But those giddy-happy days don’t scare me. Instead, I treasure them. I know not every day will be like this. I won’t always be able to see the beauty and wonder in the world around me. I won’t always feel as if I’m a part of this madly whirling universe. I won’t always believe I can accomplish even a small bit of my dreams. Heck, there are many times when I don’t dare let myself dream at all. Fear holds me back, quite a lot.
And so, I think about those days — when the sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and the sky was the most perfect shade of blue. I think about how excited and happy I felt, just to be alive. And I store up those memories and feelings, like the treasures they are. Because I’ll need them later, when the sky is gray in my world. Because, when life feels difficult, I need to remember the sun is still there, waiting for me.