TWO-MINUTE VACATIONS
	OCTOBER 2004

by Don Huntington, Editor In Chief

In diving to the bottom of pleasure we bring up more gravel than pearls. (Honoré de Balzac)

A small but unforgettable event occurred one beautiful fall day a number of years ago. A task of some kind called for me to walk between two buildings at the business complex where I worked at the time. Just outside the door of one of the buildings stood a liquid amber tree clothed in such gorgeous fall colors that the sight took my breath away.

I stood briefly reveling in that wonderful moment. I then gave thanks for a world in which such beauty could exist, went into the building, and continued with my work.

Several hours later it occurred to me that I had changed since I was a young man. I had been able to enjoy with all my heart the brief experience in front of that glorious tree and then had been satisfied.

When I was younger I would have longed to play hooky from work the rest of the day and take pictures of all the trees in the little park by my work or jump in my car and drive through the Santa Cruz mountains in an effort to “dive to the bottom” of the intense pleasure that the colors of that tree had aroused in my heart.

I would have irritated my boss by taking off in the middle of the morning or else would have annoyed myself because I had to remain at work. Either way I would have brought up a lot of “gravel” through my desire to extend the wonderful experience.

Instead I saw, I rejoiced, and I was satisfied.

Years ago a wise man encouraged me to take “two-minute vacations.” That was good advice! That’s exactly what I did while standing before that tree.

I now have experiences like that every day, it seems. It is important for me to continually renew my mind and my spirit — to have many “two-minute vacations” when I am simply filled with a sense of wonder or even elation at some item in my environment, mind, or memory. I often feel the way that a colt kicking up its heels must feel.

These short intermissions seem to have certain childlike characteristics. Perhaps this hints at a reason why entrance into the Peaceable Kingdom is apparently reserved for people who become like children.

Maybe the way into that Place really is found only by those who maintain a capacity for wonder — for maintaining a feeling of humble uncertainty, and a fresh sense of always getting started about the real business of life. Certainly my “two-minute vacations” always have the effect of renewing my sense optimism about myself and about the world around me.

Optimism, itself, is a childlike quality, I think. One woman who knew the truth about the matter declared that a sense of optimism was the secret to all advancement in life:

Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence. (Helen Keller)

The optimism, hope, and confidence Helen Keller spoke about are constant companions in my life these days.

I know I sometimes irritate the people around me by my continual good cheer, but I refuse to feign negative feelings that I simply don’t have in order to reinforce the doubt, depression, and anger of someone who is having a bad time and lacks a desire to feel better.

Maybe optimism sometimes becomes a failing on my part. (I know some of the people closest to me believe that it does.) But I’m not trying very hard to change that about myself because I’m too grateful for the spiritual sunshine that I seem to be walking in most of the time.

A remarkable phenomenon is taking place in my life: every year for the past 15-20 years I could honestly say, “I’ve never had a more fulfilled, more joyful time than I’ve had during this past year.”

There are many reasons for the steady increase of the joy and pleasure I take from life. I probably don’t even understand some of them. But one big explanation doubtless lies in Balzac’s quote. I have gradually been learning during many pleasant experiences in my life not to try “diving to the bottom of pleasure.”

I’m thankful for the opportunity of enjoying pleasure in bits and pieces. I’m grateful for the multitude of little “vacations” that I take from day-to-day.