Magic Moments: The Recipe for Slowing Down

Jordan loves to stop and smell the roses, both figuratively and literally. Just the other day we were walking by the river and he stopped to smell a tree with fragrant pink blossoms. His neck got long, his eye got wide, and he let out an “ooooh” that would delight most English ladies.

Even when there are no flowers to smell he still stops to soak in his surroundings.

Stop and Smell the Roses

He does this a lot, takes mental bookmarks of his life during moments both big and small. Some morning he’ll take his coffee to the window, stand in the sun, and let the sights, sounds and smells seep into his memory.

He often stops me from what I’m doing, puts his arm on my shoulder, and says, “I want us to remember this.” Then he makes me stand there until we’ve allowed sufficient time for observation.

I admit I’m not always in the mood to stop and look around. I have work to do and destinations to reach, and I get frustrated with his efforts. He does it anyway, so I can either wait for the moment to pass or I can succumb to it. When I succumb, as I usually do, my pulse slows, my face softens, and I can’t help but smile.

Most people only experience this a few times in life; Jordan makes these Magic Moments happen nearly every day and last summer I learned where he gets it from.

It was July and we were on the back patio at his parent’s house: swinging on the hammock, sinking into our chairs, sipping our wine. His dad couldn’t stop talking about the fireflies, and how it was the prime time to go see them. He kept reminding everyone that before we went to bed we had to go see these magical bugs. But we were comfortable and weary and the transition to bed from the patio would have been so easy. But Larry insisted so we indulged; we piled into the car, half rolling our eyes, and drove off to see the fireflies.

We drove away from the lake, into the farms, and down deserted roads until we got to one stretch where the trees were dense on both sides of the car. Larry turned off the headlights and rolled down the windows. Sure enough, thousands of twinkling green lights danced in the pitch-black night. Once again, my pulse slowed, my face softened, and I couldn’t help but smile.

You may also like...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *