The Happiest Memory

Someone recently asked me, "What is my happiest memory?" As in most or absolute best? As in “stands out as the one and only time I was happier than anything EVER”? Can one really answer that question? To take a lifetime of happy memories and reduce them to ONE event that stands out in the mind as the pinnacle of life? Where should I begin? Is it a fleeting moment of peace? Or a story told over and over to friends over campfires? Or is it the whimsical images we keep in our minds of loved ones lost?

Humans are a fusion of “happiest memories.” Our starry eyes reflect times of synchronicity and decades of episodes trapped within the fuzzy confines of the hippocampus. To pick one out reminds me of seeking four leaf clovers as a child; combing the grass with an expectation of finding one or more. Excited, yet somehow cautious. If I had to sift through my grains of memory as the wind blows me today and in the present mood in which I sit, I might ponder the memory of my horse and my mom, both long gone. Grief wraps its hand around my happiest memory, but it’s a familiar comforting hand. The sound of hoofbeats on sand. The sound of joyful laughter. The toss of a blonde mane, my mother’s.

The smell of salty sea air. The clear blue sky dotted with cumulus clouds like cotton candy. The seagulls crying above and the waves lapping the distant shore. This was my happiest place, the beach in Courtenay. We would ride out there from our fleeting paradise, like a musical ride of sorts, with the gulls and eagles as our audience. My horse Venture was pawing at the sand, his fiery heart ablaze as he knew his freedom to run was coming. My mom, Lynn, aboard her trusty dark bay steed, Tall Reason. The instant our eyes met we were off like a flood of water being let loose from the dam. We galloped as free as the wild. We were the wild. We were flying on the breeze, our legs gripping the saddles as we moved with our horses' smooth motion.

The only sound that mattered was the hot air being expelled through ancestral Arabian nostrils and the eight hooves pounding the sand bars… The dum da da dum da da dum da da dum da da dum echoing across the miles of beach… We felt eyes were watching from afar, but not caring, we reveled in our freedom. It was us and our horses and the beach. Coming to the water’s edge, we slowed and cantered through the shallow tidal pools, sending crabs and other minnows scuttling. Flushed cheeks told the world of our exhilaration. The damp sweat of our horses’ necks rubbed off on our hands with our praise. Our hearts were so full of joy, of adventure, of pure momentous occasion. Perhaps happiest of all. Perhaps.

When I answered this question, and really thought about a moment in time where happiness truly exuded itself, I was brought back to this time and place by exploring the sights, sounds, smells and feelings. I invite you to explore your fuzzy confines and dig up a story that you might find is one of your "happiest moments." You might be surprised what flows from the old memory bank. You might be pleasantly reminded of how beautiful life can be and have the sensation come flooding back to you. Happiness is always there in our hearts if you should seek it. When I started this exercise and attempted to answer this seemingly simple question: "What is your happiest memory?" - I knew I was extracting raw emotion lying dormant. It wasn't so much about the superlative nature of the question, but rather the process to dig deep and remember, reflect and feel it once more. It was about taking a deep breath and seeing with your soul.