Sitting In A Secret Field
by Deirdre McEachern

The nice thing about joy is that it’s always available to us. Like the stars in daytime, sometimes we cannot see the joy around us but it has not disappeared; it is merely waiting for its next opportunity to present itself.

Often in our lives, we lose sight of what makes our lives joyful. Our perspective gets weighed down by stress and pressure. A few days ago, after a particularly challenging day of work, I went for a walk with my dog. It was a bright early summer evening around 7 p.m. I was especially motivated to go because it was the first evening without rain in a long time and it was warm enough to wear just a light jacket.

I walked along my neighborhood in coastal Maine. Between the houses, I caught a glimpse of the water and new boats bobbing at their moorings as the distant harbor started to fill up again for the upcoming season.

Near the point where I usually turn around and head home, I crossed the street. But rather than make my way straight back, I decided to take a moment and gaze at a house I loved and always admired from the car as I drove by. It is called Mead Farm and it sits on a corner lot with fields all around it. For the entire year and a half I’ve lived in Kittery, it has sat in vacant grandeur.

It is a striking piece of property because it's situated atop a sloping hill, and though its weathered shingles are barely displaying much of their yellow paint anymore, its farmer’s porch looks comfortable and inviting rather than shabby. Behind it, a stretch of lawn reaches long and far down to an inlet of water. It has the look and feel of a peaceful getaway. It is ideally positioned to take full advantage of nature's offerings of grass, trees, space and sea. It’s a beautiful sight to see its meadows reaching all the way to the shore.

Unfortunately, immediately beside this farm oasis, a new road is being built. Ten new properties are being carved into the land adjacent. As I gazed on the old farmhouse with fondness, I decided to walk up the newly paved road and check out the plots of land that were being prepared for the new construction.

The project was at the stage of clearing trees for the home sites. Off the paved road were dirt paths cut by bulldozers and other tree-removal machinery. I walked up to one of the lots wondering what kind of house it might be and where it will be situated. As I looped through the trees, I found myself coming out behind the farmhouse right at the bottom of a field where it meets the sea.

Because the properties are all for sale, someone had mowed and the air was full of the wonderful aroma of fresh cut lawn. I stopped walking and sat on the grass. It was a bit damp but I didn't mind. I was alone in a secret field from which I could see far and wide and it was likely that no one could see me. I felt like a kid again. This was my field for the moment and mine alone. I let my dog off her leash and she ran around me in joyful circles at her freedom. I sat and watched in the distance as cars crossed a faraway bridge and listened to the songs of evening birds. I lay back and felt the earth beneath me and felt connected, peaceful, and I must admit, slightly mischievous. I felt as if I was stealing a moment on someone else's land and it was wonderful.

But soon I realized this field would be gone. Not far from where I lay, wooden marker poles with pieces of orange plastic tied around them marked a lane. This land was earmarked to become a road. I remembered that the ten houses were advertised to share a dock. “Where I am sitting is going to be the road to that new dock,” I thought. “This grass will not be here for much longer.”

Though I felt sad about the loss of the field, it also made the moment I was enjoying all the sweeter because it was transient. I made a pact with myself to return again soon and enjoy it once more before it was gone.

Isn't it true that moments of such contentment and joy are always momentary since that is their very nature? All joy is naturally bittersweet because it cannot last. It is by its very essence temporary. Like water in our hands, we cannot hold it forever. But we can enjoy the feel of it slipping through our fingers. The key is to focus our attention on what we are experiencing in the moment as opposed to what may worry us.

I’m glad to have had that moment with my secret field. I will hold that memory with fondness for many years – especially when I drive by that new dock. I will always remember sitting in my secret field.

If you feel that joy in your life has been fleeting or far between lately, perhaps a change in perspective might help. The next time you find joy tapping you on the shoulder, make a renewed effort to turn toward it and simply let yourself experience it in the moment.

After all, what have you got to lose?

About the author:

Deirdre Maigread McEachern is an experienced writer, speaker and personal coach who works one-on-one to help her clients find their ideal career and create more balance in their lives. You can contact Deirdre at 207-439-4280, deirdre@vip-coaching.com or sign up for her free e-newsletter at www.vip-coaching.com/news.