What is the texture of the moment?
It’s capturing the essence of each fine-grained slice of time that we experience.
Why is this important?
Maybe this example will help: Imagine flying over California, 30,000 feet in the air, and seeing its coastline from way up there. You notice there’s a certain way that it curves around and angles back and forth, here and there.
Now, imagine that you draw closer to the ground, as if you’re coming in for a landing. You’re at 3000 feet now, and you’re seeing that the curves and angles you noticed before are made up of curves and angles of their own… there’s a whole other level of detail that you weren’t aware of just a moment ago.
As you’re landing, at 30 feet off the ground, you can see the details of the coastline, the rocky breakwater, the waves as they crash. More glorious detail, more specific beauty.
And now, standing on a stretch of Pacific beach (which is why you came to California in the first place) you can see how the water stretches itself over the sand and recedes, and then stretches out again. And again and again in its never-ending rhythm.
You feel the waves envelop your feet, the grit of the sand under your toes, the sun and the breeze on your face. You reach down and scoop up a little water and sand, and you marvel at the texture of it as it drips from between your fingers. You are now experiencing the coastline in a way that you never could at 30,000, 3000, or even 30 feet.
In fact, you’re so close to where land ends and sea begins that the line between them blurs as each wave crashes, extends, and recedes.
Completely immersed in reality at this level of detail is how I want to experience my life more often.
So many times, unfortunately, I don’t. There are times when I am going through my day at 30,000 feet in the air, seeing only the broadest of brush strokes in what is an infinitely detailed canvas.
And there are times when I’m at the closer levels, maybe 3,000 or 30 feet up, and I see more of the detail, notice more about the beauty of the world and of the people around me, but my head is partially elsewhere, and I’m not really in it.
But when I’m standing there, feet in the water of the coastline of my life, as mingled cold water and warm sand drip from my hand, what an insanely beautiful moment I’m able to take in… because that’s when I’m truly sensing the texture that moment.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had a time when you thought everything you love was about to be taken from you. Whether it was a health scare, a car crash, or some other sort of life-threatening experience, you probably came away from it with a deep awareness of how every breath of life is the most precious gift.
I want to bring as much of that clarity and awareness into my daily experience as I can.
At this level of perception, living is a parade of of non-stop beauty— even at more challenging times. Seeking out the texture of each moment brings us an intimacy and a perspective that lets us be so much more connected to the people in our lives.
For me, this is living life, and the rest, I think is just navigating through it.
Taking in the texture of this moment is so important and so revolutionary that I devoted an entire section of my class Seven Days to Sanctuary to it. In the class I refer to it as “The Noticing.” Because in our noticing the beauty of our sanctuary, our hearts are awakened to the beauty of the world outside that sanctuary, and of each life that touches our own.
And when we are noticing so much incredible beauty around us, we cannot fail to notice that we, ourselves, are beautiful too.
And that is what sanctuary is all about.
With such love and appreciation,