Contentment

It strikes me that true contentment is the rarest of human emotions.  It's like a precious metal.  So hard to find, especially when you're actively pursuing it.  Instead, you find it when you least expect it.  It's in short supply but it's so very valuable.  Priceless, even.

I'm always striving . . . for something.  Professional success.  Financial security.  Physical fitness.  Knowledge.  More business.  A more productive, efficient law practice and office.  Health.  More time.  A good night's sleep.  All of it.

It's exhausting, sometimes.  All of the striving.  

I guess that's why, for me, it's so special when I because of fate or serendipity, I find a moment of contentment.  It's pure.  Fleeting.  Magical while it lasts.

Yesterday, I had a long day in Court in Nashville.  A lot of back and forth.  A lot of negotiating.  A possible hearing.  A satisfying day to be sure but a long one, at the end of another long week at work.  I had something late in the afternoon in Franklin that canceled, so I found myself done with my day, and my week, at 3:30 p.m. or so.  I drove to 12South and, still in coat and tie, I just . . . walked.  Sure, I made a few calls for work but, mostly, I just walked, people watched, and marveled at how much our neighborhood has changed.  There were people everywhere getting a head start on the weekend.

I checked in with Jude.  She was trying to finish an e-mail for work, then go pick up Joe from soccer practice.  I offered to grab him so she wouldn't be so rushed trying to finish up the work day.  As I drove over to MBA, windows down on a beautiful fall early evening, listening to Neil Young's Dreamin' Man Live 1992, a feeling of contentment began to wash over me.  

Joe's soccer practice ran 30 + minutes late, which, strangely, was perfect for me.  I sat in my truck, listening to Neil Young, and felt . . . content.  The work week was over.  The weekend was here.  JP was on the way home after cross country practice and soon, enough, Joe would hop in my truck and tell my about his day.  Jude was home finishing up work for the week.  The boys were going, together, to the MBA-Brentwood Academy TSSAA playoff game, and Jude I would have the night off.

A little wile later, after the boys had left and Jude was out running a couple of errands, I poured myself a bourbon - Calumet Farms 15, of course - and sat out on the back deck in my camping chair, in the middle of the fallen leaves.  It smelled like fall, as I sat in the darkness and sipped my bourbon.  It was a damn near perfect moment interrupted only when my cell rang as one of my best friends, Doug Brown, called to check in.  Having a few minutes to talk with Doug and his wife, Sally, only heightened my enjoyment of the moment.  My feeling of contentment.

Those are the moments I look for all year long.  Sometimes they're few and far between or hard to find.  Still, they're out there, waiting on me.