Moments of Transcendence in Everyday Life

I find the subject of happiness endlessly fascinating.

I love to reflect on what makes people happy, why we think some things will make us happy, but then they don’t, and some of the apparent paradoxes of happiness, such as how taking on a new challenge can cause a lot of discomfort — both mental and physical — in the short- and medium-term and then subsequently a lot of happiness once you’ve met the challenge, risen above, and mastered it.

In fact, over fifteen years ago, we named our Fjordhorse farm after the bird which is the symbol of happiness in poetry and song, the Eastern Bluebird. Bluebird Lane, and the Fjords which live here, have been a very big source of happiness and purpose in my life.

In keeping with my interest, I like to follow Gretchen Rubin’s blog The Happiness Project which often gives me food for thought. One of her recent posts, about watching for moments of transcendence really struck a chord with me.

In this post she talks about how in books, movies, and plays her favorite scenes are often moments of transcendence: “when, in the muddle of existence, characters somehow manage to break through everything to engage with each other, and with higher values.”

Here, Gretchen shares a moment of transcendence from her own everyday life:

And I remember when I stopped by the studio of a friend who is a brilliant painter. His studio was everything you’d imagine: skylight, canvases everywhere, plaster models, coffee cans filled with brushes, all of it.

“Wait, I just have to finish one thing,” he told me, and he added a few more strokes of paint to a landscape he was working on.

I looked around at everything, so beautiful. “Jacob, you are lucky,” I said, in a fierce voice.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

In the rush of our daily routines, it’s so easy to miss moments of transcendence. In art, they are masterfully presented, with language and emphasis that set them apart like jewels. In ordinary life, they rush by. I try to remind myself to look for them every day.

What made that moment transcendent is that she rose above the everyday elements and looked at everything with fresh eyes, realizing the beauty of the surroundings and of the man who was able to follow his passion and use his time and creativity to express himself.

I think of this now when I’m in the barn, especially at evening feeding, with the smells of clean shavings and hay, the sounds of the horses munching and pushing their hay around, looking for the very best bits to eat first, the sight of each horse, happy and healthy and well cared-for. This scene is so familiar that it’s totally commonplace to me, and yet, I realize there is no place I’d rather be and how truly beautiful it is. How lucky I am to be there! I think now of how an outsider would feel, seeing it with fresh eyes.

Even such simple moments as evening feeding can be transcendent!