… what is your bliss? …

My moments of bliss come out of the blue, when I glimpse something moving in a certain way, in a certain light, not ordinary light, but a mysterious light that shines through nature.

P1070862 - smallerLike the day after the sky was veiled by thick curtains of rain and next morning the sun spun its brilliance through the cleansed air, and a warm breeze played through my washing on the line. Such joy, when for an instant my whole attention is timelessly merged with a particular quality of being, transporting me beyond my senses in ways I can’t fathom.

I draw these tricks of light to me, like a collector tends to attract the objects he/she desires. When days or weeks pass without such moments, I feel deprived and nothing quite chimes.

Maybe it’s a rare beauty that takes the mind by surprise and stops time. The washing line reminded me of another bliss I met on a stormy day in the sand dunes of Rye on the Sussex coast. Imacon Color ScannerTo take the photograph I balanced with difficulty on a lifeguard tower that was rocked by strong winds, leaning precariously backwards to get the frame right. The light was sombre, the stirring in the air not playful but intense, yet bliss was present.

When I lose my bliss I pray for its return, like one would call on an imagined angel to make itself known. Occasionally I find a feather on the ground and think – it came and I missed it. Then again, no instance of bliss is lost; the experience is incorruptible and lives on in the calm depth of life’s pulsing heart. Everyone has their own kind of bliss.

What is your bliss?

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22 Comments

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22 responses to “… what is your bliss? …

  1. Beautiful photos and post thank you Ashen. Sometimes a scene in nature can take my breath away. I like finding feathers in unexpected places and wonder if there’s a message in the finding, somehow. A satisfaction in job completed to the best of my ability can make me feel momentarily blissed. Any ‘aha’ moment is bliss …

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  2. Yes, moments in nature, the light through the trees or the ripple in the waves all of that but also a feeling of joy that sometimes comes from nowhere and then I find later that there were unseen things moving in my life that are only revealed when the time is right. I love those moments and can’t wait to hear what it was that happened.

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  3. Hi! Ashen
    This work of yours commands the mind to remember.
    I have just reviewed a verse which takes pride of place on our refrigerator.
    ‘Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away’.
    What you wrote and the way you go about seeking joy, is beautiful.
    Many joys are there waiting for us to make the time. I trust my journey will be as fulfilling as the life you share with us.
    My best to you.B

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    • Hi B, thank you – what a lovely phrase … ‘Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away’… those few and precious experiences are the landmarks in our lives.

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  4. So true! And your piece is one such moment for me.

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  5. Hi,
    The picture is beautiful. I too have my blissful moments. One morning, I was sitting in what I call my Georgia room, but it is my patio glassed in. The sun had come up slowly. I looked out of my patio windows and there was a berry tree with white blossoms, but it was not yet spring. I kept looking at it and the blossoms remained. I saw it as a sign of God to me that he’s still there and I still matter to him.

    I treasure the blissful moments that come to me. A rainbow that suddenly appears and is there for only a few moments, or sometimes I wake up at 4:30 in the morning because the birds are chatting away below or above my opened window.

    These are moments that revive me.
    I truly enjoyed your post.
    Shalom,
    Patricia

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  6. Reblogged this on Walk On and commented:
    Hello everyone,

    Here is a beautiful article that I would like to share on Walk On. It fits and I thought you would enjoy it.

    Shalom,
    Pat Garcia

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I love this post, it’s quite entertaining. And moments like this enrich life. I found your post on Patricia Garcia’s blog “Walk On”. 🙂 Nicely done.

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  8. Pingback: … what is your bliss? … | Course of Mirrors

  9. A lovely reminder for me on this hectic morning, to find at least a few moments where I can be open to notice such things. It doesn’t take much–a slight pause–and its rejuvenating. Lately I’ve been mesmerized by the routines of the critters who frequent even my suburban backyard. Thanks for your reminder.

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  10. Sometimes it’s an expansive horizon, a sunrise or a sunset, but what I love the most is when it’s a simple task, like washing the dishes, cooking a meal, folding the sheets – there is usually where my bliss lies!
    I found you through Pat Garcia.
    Lovely!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. It does not come from being stoned, though it lives in stone.

    ‘….it comes; I tell you, immense with gasolined

    rags and bits of wire and old bent nails, a dark

    arriviste, from a dark river within.’

    – Gregory Corso

    It does not come from being stoned, though it lives in stone.
    It lives in wood long after the tree has fallen.
    It comes in a snap and disappears
    like the short sustain of an acoustic guitar.
    It passes through things, with light.

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    • The enphant terrible of the Beats.
      I like ‘The Whole Mess … Almost.’
      http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/175647
      He was a little coy with beauty.
      Wonder if he washed his cottons and saw them dry with the breeze blowing through them.

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      • Like most of the other Beats, Corso was really a fish out of water (how’s that for an original?). Perhaps, when it came to beauty, he thought there actually was world enough and time, no crime. But the stone thing, that was mine – and I thought it captured this idea of ‘bliss,’ its ambiguity and effervescence, for yes, it’s a bubble that floats by and when you reach out for it, pops. ‘Gasoline,’ Corso’s book with City Lights, I discovered at Either Or Bookstore in Hermosa Beach years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it. Still have the copy, a Pocket Book.

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  12. I love the sunrises and sunsets. When I leave for work, I have witnessed some of the most amazing hues as the sun rises.

    Liked by 1 person

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