Since I was young, the F-word has been what I called my “reserve word.” If you heard me say it you knew one of two things: I was either royally pissed or I’d had too much to drink, and either way, you should probably take me home. In the past few years of living in a pandemic and with social and political unrest, I’ve said that word often enough it’s lost a bit of its power. My husband no longer flinches when it comes out of my mouth, although he still takes note.
Lately, I’ve been thinking the same thing about the expression “aha moment,” which was popularized by Oprah Winfrey. Though some linguists can trace the term to times before Oprah’s influence, it was she who insisted an “aha moment” didn’t just mean something you realized. It meant something you realized that you somehow already knew inside but had forgotten. It’s not just a moment of insight. It’s a moment of seeing into yourself. It might be prompted by something that happens, or something someone says, or even something that just “comes” to you while reading or meditating or praying.
In the past week, thanks to conversations with a few wise and intuitive friends, I’ve had several aha moments. Interestingly, they built on each other to lead toward a major shift in my thinking, but a shift that feels like a return to something in an exciting and comforting way. A return to what? My child self? My core being? A…
