That Perfect Moment

Everything that happens in this world happens in time that God chooses (Ecclesiastes 3:1-15)

A very profound quote indeed. For so long, I am also waiting for that perfect moment to come, waiting for the whole world to align, waiting for that big splash to squint in my life before making a huge decision. But as time goes by, I felt this belief is somewhat confusing, the perfect moment I tried to wait for a whole decade is just an illusion, a mysterious vision.

My first set of photos after turning another year 

This year, another figure added to my chronological chart but I've already come to a point where I don't care about age any more, my own concept of ageing has a little make over.

I believe that when people reach a significant milestone in life, age is no longer a burden but more of an advantage. So as I turn another page of my journey, I don't feel I am unfortunate in fact I felt so luckier, wiser, more confident, more self-assured and stronger this time. There's something about ageing that I find extra fascinating, it's all about grace and wisdom.

I know I've already piled enough wisdom in my heart and mind to understand my environment better and the complexities of life. I know already how to balance things and figure out where I am heading. But this emotional maturity I have right now does not guarantee a close-to-perfection existence. I know deep inside, I am still vulnerable, I am still capable of committing a grave mistake.

But what about that perfect moment everyone is waiting?

Yeah, I am also waiting for that beaming moment to hit in my horizon, but what if, the perfect moment I am waiting is no longer appropriate? Would it still be considered a perfect moment?

For the past years, decades perhaps, I kept on waiting for that beautiful flicker, splashing of emotion to come, because I always believe that each one of us has the right to dream, to long for that fairytale circumstance to come. You know soulmate, true love stuff.

I am one of those traditional dreamers who had been literally poisoned by fairytale, that there's some truth about the tale of Cinderella: it's love when the shoe fits perfectly, when your gaze meets and suddenly tiny bubbles float in the horizon, when that little smile suddenly turns magical and you can hear beautiful music in the air. When everything is just so right and comfortable and rosy.

But what if this moment I've been trying to believe as perfect would no longer available, no longer possible? Would I be wiser enough to balance the logic and sentiments when one day a stupid circumstance would push me to the edge?

Oh, the irony of life.


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