Monday, September 7, 2009

minutes

A priest told our seventh-grade class once that he had thought a lot about heaven, and thought that it probably resembled something like your favorite moment ever, stretched out to eternity. our faces at the time looked like this:




but younger. At the time, it was perfectly evident to all of us that you would get really bored doing the same moment forever. for. ev. er.

Anyway, I've been thinking about moments lately a lot because there have been several in the running for eternity-moments. These are moments like when your dear friend serves a blackberry tart with vanilla ice cream and you take the first bite and know it's for real, or when you watch a friend become totally enamored and disarmed in the company of one of the great loves of her life, or when your dog sneezes because he's angry about the neighbor's loudness and he collapses on your belly and you know he's perfect.

And it occurs to me that great moments are shaped by little things and that the character of great moments is such that they defy reason. The moments that have been great for me lately have taken place during the first few strides of a run, while rounding the corner of the Auto Glass, listening to eleven-year-old Michael Jackson express want:





All of which makes for a fairly ridiculous existence. But such promise. Such sunshine in this summer of Chicago. Such a convergence of good things.

Bonus track, also a candidate for forever:



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