Function of Perfect Moments

Have you ever experienced a day you didn’t want to end because you were dreading the following day? I remember plenty of snow days when I fervently wished the next day would be cancelled because I hadn’t finished my homework. AVOIDANCE. Mondays are infamous for the level of loathing they can inspire. Court dates, family confrontations, repercussions from unwise decisions—who couldn’t make a long, long list of days they once wished they could skip? How well we remember spending the night before worrying because we knew morning was inevitable. But I never despised an upcoming day enough to want to stop time. Halting time wouldn’t eliminate a distasteful event, only delay it and maybe intensify the dread.

How about extending an exquisite day? We’ve all said, “I wish this day never had to end!” But did we wish that would actually happen?  Adventures, beautiful scenery, delicious meals, fun, love or great companionship—we’ve all had days, years, or at least moments that felt so magical that we wanted to grip them tightly so the feelings couldn’t slip away. But we concede that you can have too much of a good thing—like eating too much fudge or drinking too much wine. In contrast, in the film GROUNDHOG DAY, Bill Murray’s character was stuck in an endless time loop, re-experiencing the same boring day in a boring place that he couldn’t destroy no matter how hard he tried over and over again. You can easily have too much of a boring thing.

A delightful departure from the dilemma of GROUNDHOG DAY was written into THE MAP OF TINY PERFECT THINGS, an original rom/com film fantasy in which two teenagers who are initially unknown to one another are stuck in a temporal loop neither can understand or escape. One possible solution they devise is to notice and map every single perfect thing that occurs during their mutual day, searching for a pattern. They have plenty of time to explore their surroundings, watching for beautiful moments such as the sight of an eagle swooping down to pluck a fish from a pond mid-flight. They study their map of perfect moments carefully, looking for comprehension. One insight is that perfect moments happen frequently in all sorts of unexpected places. We take most for granted and move on.

What difference would it make if we did take note of the beautiful moments around us—not merely the grand ones like stupendous sunsets but also the small moments when life quietly goes right? Would it help us think and feel more calmly about difficulties we know lie ahead to see that they can be balanced with something more positive? Would it sweeten our perception of daily life as it flows along? Would it help us identify the part we play in determining the valance, the goodness or badness, of our circumstances? We’re often urged to feel the present moment as it is. Are we in danger? Are we in distress? Or is life okay right now? Are you good?

THE MAP OF TINY PERFECT THINGS surprised me by brightening my outlook when all I expected was a predictable romantic fantasy. I guess seeing that film on Amazon Prime was one of my fortuitous moments.