How to Make Great Moments Last

When I pitched the idea of attending a three-day music festival in Washington to my new Oklahoma fraternity brothers who had never even been to the West Coast, I had no idea how much it would impact all of our lives.

It’s Monday morning, and I roll out of my tent to start packing. I stretch, trying to undo the damage of sleeping on a glorified tarp in a hayfield for three nights, and glance around to see who’s awake. Bear is sitting on our last unbroken camping chair by the fire, somehow looking both well-rested and as if he hadn’t slept in days.

Coe must have packed last night. He’s asleep in the back seat of the car, feet dangling out the window. Trevor and Grant are nowhere to be found, but I figure we’ll track them down on our way out.

It’s already hot for 8 a.m., and while our wallets are empty, our hearts are full of experiences we’ll never forget: Toby Keith pulling a wounded veteran on stage during American Soldier… meeting brothers from another university and bonding instantly… losing Trevor for a full 36 hours, only to discover he’d stayed with a family he met because he couldn’t find our campsite. We laughed, we cried, and we kept saying, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

As we sit in the line to leave, no one speaks. The mood is strangely somber. Even though we just had the time of our lives, we know it’s over. Last night we promised things like, “We’ll be back next year,” or, “This is our new annual tradition.” But deep down, we all knew this was it.

We all have these moments, the ones we wish would last forever. Sitting around a fire with friends, hearing your favorite song live, going on a first date with a longtime crush, or watching a family member open the perfect gift. We’ve all thought, I wish this would never end.

But clinging to that hope can actually pull us out of the present. Believing we’ll repeat the experience, or that it will always be there, can rob us of the chance to fully enjoy it. Ironically, that shortens life’s sweetest moments instead of lengthening them.

The better choice is to recognize the moment while we’re in it and remind ourselves: This may be it, so let’s savor it while we can.

I think Grant understood that before the rest of us. After hours of near silence on the drive home, he suddenly perked up and asked, “Do you guys wanna swim in a waterfall?”

None of us had showered in three days, so the idea was instantly appealing. More importantly, it gave us one last high note to end the weekend on.

We never went back to Watershed Fest, and looking back, I’m glad we didn’t. How could we possibly recreate what we had?

As we plunged into that icy water, laughing and shivering, we weren’t worrying about next year, next month, or even the next second. We simply were. And that moment will live forever.

Fact

Psychologists call it the “scarcity effect”: when we know something is limited, we pay more attention to it and enjoy it more deeply.

Action

Celebrate your next moment audibly. While in the moment, exclaim it by saying, "This is it."

Question

What is a moment you previously wished you could repeat, but now know it's special because you can't repeat it?

Quote

"Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory." - Dr. Seuss