What is “the bliss point”? Well, in food-related matters, the “bliss point” is the ratio of sugar, salt, and fat that makes food irresistably delicious and cravable, potentially overriding the body’s signals to stop eating when full, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. Right now, I’m speaking more…existentially. My thinking on this is that there’s a “bliss point” for anything that activates our brain’s “reward centers”, creating a feeling of intense pleasure and satisfaction, resulting in, well, bliss. Bliss is the feeling. The sensation. The experience. There are a lot of things that might get a person there.
For me, right now, here in this fragile finite moment, I’ve reached “the bliss point” in this moment of solitude at home. The combination of profound delight (and real joy for my Traveling Partner’s continued recovery from his injury and surgery) and solitary quiet right here safe and comfortable in my own home feels…amazing. Lovely. Blissful. It has been this rare for me to be home alone. For someone who enjoys solitude to find it so rarely at home has been difficult and frustrating (and probably slowly degrading my emotional wellness over time) – but the need has been great, and I’ve done my best to step up and be a fucking grown-up about it.
We embraced after he zipped his fleece, and grabbed his keys from the hook in the hallway. It still didn’t “feel real” until the truck pulled out of the driveway – without me in it. Wow. The quiet. The stillness. The hushed whir of the computer fan breaking the silence. The ring zing buzz of my tinnitus seems like the loudest “sound” in the room. The whole house is so… quiet. So still. So…pleasant. I love this little house. I love the way we decorated. I love seeing signs of my Traveling Partner’s taste here and there and all around. I step happily from room to room, just feeling the space around me, and hearing the quiet. It’s nice. I feel deeply infused with contentment and a gentle joy. I don’t really need much in life to find it enjoyable, I suppose. I’m not lusting after beautiful people, or sparkly stones, or fast cars, or fancy neighbors (which, is a good thing, since yearning can push us to do some terrible and foolish things).
I make a point to enjoy the moment, and to feel grateful to have it. I let the soft silence seep into me, and let myself become wrapped in contentment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take time to meditate. Most of the day will be spent on work, and I’m not even cross about that. I’m logged in and ready. It’s fine. I’m here at home, and I am loved, and I am enjoying the feeling of relief and pride that comes of seeing my beloved’s progress, and knowing how much he enjoys his pick-up truck. This feels good, so I take time with my feelings, just enjoying this moment, and wringing every shred of joy from savoring a moment in the bliss point.
…This too will pass. That’s what time does; it passes. Our moments are finite, fragile, and fleeting. I make time for joy and bliss, before I begin again.
Evening Light 