Contentment

I'm sitting in a Yurt in Pelham, Tennessee, sipping a bourbon on a big rock - Calumet Farm 15, of course - listening to Drive-By Truckers and about to read a little Garrison Keillor (Boom Town, A Lake Wobegon Novel).  In a little while, I'll walk up a lighted trail through the woods to the Caverns, so I can watch Deer Tick, followed by Drive-By Truckers.  In a cave.

My friend and former client, Todd Mayo, owns the Caverns.  After I texted him to thank him for getting me tickets, he called and asked if I wanted to stand in the Pit, up close, where he will be.  Of course I do.  

I don't think I've been content, and happier, than I am at this exact moment in a very, very long time.  

Sometimes I think that you grind through life, through all of the ups and downs, all of the mundanity, in search of those moments like this one that are so precious, so few and far between.  The pearls of a lifetime.  The perfect yet fleeting moments that are so hard to find and even harder to hold onto.  So few in number but so incredibly significant.  

I was so comfortable working from the house on Florida Avenue in Sewanee yesterday and today.  I almost didn't make the 25 minute drive down the Mountain to the Caverns.  Seeing the Truckers in the Caverns was my whole reason for coming up here when I reached out to Todd about tickets months ago and booked a night in a Yurt, in The Yurt Village.  I'm so damn glad I'm here.  

I don't want this moment, this very one, to ever end.  

I'm so blessed.  The best family.  A wife and sons I love with my whole heart.  In-laws that are like my own parents.  Friends.  A job that provides for my family and challenges me intellectually.  The respect of my colleagues and peers.  Clients that depend on me.  Books to read.  The ability to run.  Relatively good health, all things considered at 59.  God is so good.  

This is what contentment feels like.  So elusive but so very special when you find it, even if it's just for a stolen moment or two.