The Only Moment When We Were Alone – Explosions in the Sky.
Go ahead and listen to it right now. I’ll wait. (If you don’t have it, get it. You need to have it.)
The 4:26 mark in the song is… Wait, what are you doing? Don’t jump to that part. Let it build so you can hear it properly. Like I said, I’ll wait.
Every time I get to the 4:26 mark in the song, I feel my soul surge out of my chest. It calls me to something more. Without fail, when that blessed 4:26 mark arrives, I wish I were sitting with my computer in front of me. I am quite certain in those moments that I could write words that would echo for ages to come.
Unless, of course, my computer is actually in front of me.
More than once, my loyal Macbook has sat on my lap when The Only Moment We Were Alone strutted into the “Now Playing” window. Many of those times, it was even while doing some writing for a paper or blog entry. Everything is aligned for those blessed words to stream from my fingers.
The song builds through the four minute mark. I feel it coming. It crescendos into 4:26, and I…
I close my eyes, wishing that I could somehow step into the music itself.
I hope you can find moments like this too, whether from a few lines of poetry, a stunning image, or staring into the wonder of a child’s eyes. These are moments where the beauty that comes from another offers so much that it’s not about what it causes me to do, but who it causes me to be.