Nowhere else I'd rather be

I read an amazing blog post this morning, written by a sports writer who takes his 14 year old daughter to see Hamilton (link here, on NBC Sports of all places).  The article resonated with me on so many different levels (not least of all because I'M GOING TO SEE HAMILTON THIS AUGUST!!!!... but that's the subject of a different future post).

In his blog post, Joe Posnanski writes:

The thing about seeing Hamilton RIGHT NOW at its peak moment is that even before it begins, the entire theater is filled with wonder.  Every single person would rather be here than anywhere else in the world.  As a sportswriter, I often feel that sort of energy at the biggest events, at the Masters or the Super Bowl or the Olympics, but it's even more pronounced in this theater.  People look at each other with the same wide-eyed expression: 'Can you believe we're here?'

Just reading that paragraph makes me giddy.  Tyler and I are suckers for what we consider peak, unique experiences -- like our current discussion of how we can squeeze in a rugby match watching the All Blacks play their rivals: South Africa (rugby, Haka, Invictus all rolled into one incredible moment!) when we're in New Zealand this September.  It's become a joke that you can get me to do just about anything with the words, "When in your life will you ever again..." (with that, I almost got tickets with a friend to see a hologram K-pop concert here in Seoul..almost.)

Hours after reading that article, that paragraph still stayed with me.  And I realized that while there are surely moments of "there's nowhere else I'd rather be" for all the big-name, high profile stuff (Hamilton, U2 concerts, game 7 of the world series...), that same sense of "nowhere else" appears in every day settings too -- albeit in a much quieter flavor.  It happened during my college reunion in Cambridge over the weekend, as I sat in Sanders Theater with two of my closest friends from college, listening to professors talking about their recent research.  It happened later that night, as I sat on a hammock at Leverett House with two other close college friends, away from the party scene and just catching up on life.  It happened this morning, as I nursed Elliot and watched him gingerly touching and feeling his hair (his new recent calming obsession).  "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." (don't get me wrong, let's be real -- that's not always how I feel while breastfeeding, but when I do, it feels magical).  

And then I got started thinking about how amazing life would be if we felt this feeling -- that there's nowhere else I'd rather be -- every day.  This same sense of gratitude and wonder, albeit in a calmer, everyday version.  Sure, clearly not in every moment or even every hour, I'm not trying to be Pollyanna here.  But if during more moments of the day than not, there's a sense of: "this is exactly where I'm meant to be" -- how wonderous and magical would life be?!  

And perhaps if we feel that way less frequently than we care to acknowledge, that's a sure sign that it's time to shake things up and perhaps think of a different path.

So what would you be doing right now, if there was nowhere else you'd rather be?