Before we begin, let me say I’m using the term “God” here for convenience. Because you all know what I’m talking about. Because it’s easier to write this three-letter word than it is to say “Higher Power,” “Spirit of the Universe,” “Good Orderly Direction,” “a Power Greater Than Ourselves,” etc. Please know that when I speak of “God,” I’m referring to a god of MY understanding, and I invite you to swap in a god of YOUR understanding. It’s not a bearded old man in the clouds. Unless, of course, it is. If that bearded man is your god, embrace it. You do you.
Ok, here we go:
In January 2023, the Jersey Jannuzzis (that’s what I call our faction of the Jannuzzi clan - which includes, me, Chris, Michael, Ray, and Julia). Anyway, my family was skiing at Mount Snow in Vermont. With some prior planning and a bit of luck, we all landed at the Bluebird Express, a six-person bubble chair lift. The five of us lined up at the gate like racehorses and piled on the lift when the arms swung open. It’s called a bubble chair because it has a plastic covering you pull down to keep you warm. Toasty! Once situated on the lift, I forced us to take a photo because that’s what I do. Then, my older son Michael started banging on the bubble, creating a beat as if they were bongos.
Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun…
I don’t enjoy loud bangs and literally had my mouth open to tell him to “quit it” when all three kids started singing.
Give me a second, I need to get my story straight…
Oh my god, what’s happening? My three angsty, bickering teen/young adult children were singing a song in unison. This was it! A moment was happening!
My friends were in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State…
Instead of scolding my son, I beamed and joined in.
My lover she's waiting for me just across the bar
My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking 'bout a scar.
We were singing “We Are Young, “ a song by F.U.N. released in 2011.
By the time the refrain rolled around, I could no longer sing along as my voice choked with emotion and my eyes brimmed with tears. We had a moment of connection, a moment of joy and love. All the stressors of skiing—and there are many: the expense, the cold, the too-tight boots—all of that aggravation was worth it for this one moment when our family connected through song.
In recovery, we talk about “God-Conscious Moments.” A brief period of time when you can actually feel your connection to your Higher Power. When your heart bursts with love and joy or when you feel full of awe at the miracle of the universe. A moment when you think, THIS, this is what it’s all about.
A new trend out there uses the term “Glimmers” to describe these small moments of joy. For more on that, check out my friend Eileen's essay “Enjoying the Little Moments in Memoir.”
In early recovery, I “worked the steps,” which is what they say when you go through each of the Twelve Steps with your sponsor and complete certain tasks to help you remove the obsession to drink and learn to become a more positive and useful version of yourself.
For Step Two which is: “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity,” I was directed to write out all the moments in my life when I felt either connected to God or that God had protected me.
Looking back, I could see that there were many moments of protection. That time, I crashed my dad’s Volvo in a drunken blackout on a Vermont highway and didn’t kill myself or anyone else. That time, in Cancun when I took off on a moped with some guy I had just met. And the biggest God protection of all, falling in love with a man who doesn’t like to drink.
There were also moments when I felt God’s presence. That time, I watched the most amazing technicolored sunset in Phuket, Thailand with my grandmother. That time, I visited St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City with my friend Cathi and was just awed by the majesty of it all. Any time I hear the song “O Holy Night.”
Side Note: I’m not the only one to have a strong reaction to “O Holy Night.” Melissa Febos talks about it in her book Body Works, and a character in Maria Semple’s Where Did You Go, Bernadette, plays that song on repeat when she’s upset over the disappearance of her mother.
When I was an active alcoholic, these moments were fleeting. I didn’t recognize them for what they were. I didn’t know how to grasp onto them, how to pause and reflect, and use this connection to fill up the spiritual void. Instead, I filled up my spiritual void with alcohol.
But now that I’ve drained the alcohol from my mind and body, and maybe because I’m a little bit older, I can feel these moments with an intense appreciation. I stop and take in the situation. I say to myself: “Enjoy this, feel God’s presence, fill up your cup.” And when I do allow my cup to fill up with love and astonishment and gratitude, the minor stressors—like when later that day at Mount Snow a snowboarder cuts me off— don’t bother me as much.
What about you? Have you had these “god-conscious” moments? Feel free to share them in the comments.
Beautiful. A wonderful reminder to hold on to glimmers or god or whatever it is that brings us closer to our soulful essence. Thank you
It's hard not to have these moments in the spring, especially. Every time I go for a walk, I can't believe the beauty - the endless fallen, pink petals look like confetti from a giant party. I just read a poem by Joy Sullivan this morning about life during Covid that resonates with your post: "After everything, how the world still insists on being beautiful."