Yesterday on a rather arduous commute, I turned on the radio and heard a rather fantastic weather forecast. The weatherperson shared a poem about the cold wind, the freezing temperatures, and the sun overhead, taunting us. As I sat in my car a huge smile crossed my face and I chuckled. "Wow," I said out loud to myself. "Wow! That was great!"
I repeated one of the key phrases from his weather poem, and thought, "I can't wait to tweet this." That changed into, "I can't wait to share this with everyone at work."
But by the time I went to do so, after getting my PC up for the day, the phrasing was gone. The words were a memory at best, filed somewhere in my brain with many other forgotten things. I certainly could Google it - I remember the station I was listening to, and could research who said it, hoping to find audio - but the moment was gone, gone for all time, never to return. I chose not to share the story, as I had determined that the best part of it was indeed the exact turns of phrase this person used.
The whole thing started so strongly, and everything was clear. The words were strong. I repeated them more than once on the short walk from my car to the front door at work. And within an hour or so, I had dismissed all of the details, whether consciously or not.
On thinking about it, though, those details were ultimately not terribly important to the moment. Yes, they happened, but the key thing is that I had a noticeable emotional and physical reaction. I smiled. I laughed. I talked to myself. It heartened my heart when I needed just a little bump, just a little hit of unexpected joy. And I still smile thinking about it.
But that moment was only for me. It was not planned, nor was my reaction. And my mind and body held on to what was most important... it just wasn't what I imagined it was.