In the company of friends, I'd have to say it's when wit flows naturally all ways, the camaraderie feels rich and deep, the future feels like a piece o' cake, one's past screw-ups all fall safely into context, forgiven. It often seems alcohol and a hint of herb are of little harm in the reaching of this state, though not absolutely necessary.

Alone, it's when reaching some new place or state of mind, the freshness of which is simply Elysian to all of one's pleasure zones. This happens in writing breakthroughs -- a kind of 'Jesus, I didn't know I had that in me' moment. It also happens when doing sport, one of those, 'Never thought I could make that, and so elegantly, and I'm not even tired' moments.

There's a charity I set up for autism. We worked our arses off for 8-9 months toward the big fundraising night. When a famous painter's work sold in our art auction for $160,000, I knew the charity was going to take home a nice chunk that night, so all the hard labour had been worth it. That felt very sweet -- a new kind of buzz, a sort of kindness high hit me with more intensity than ever before. It lasted weeks. Buddha knew.

And finally, to the naughty stuff. When I was about 32, I got a job on a 100-year-old sailing yacht, 118 ft long, based out of Singapore. I lived alone on board her for 6 months and partied every single night. One evening I was entertaining a beautiful young architect from Texas who worked downtown, when an also-gorgeous Israeli girl was delivered to my boat by a yachtsman in the anchorage who'd found her asking around for me on the dock. She'd just flown in from Tel Aviv, the first of another boat's crew, the rest of whom had yet to arrive, and she had been told to locate me and I'd look after her. Of course, I knew nothing of her impending arrival. I invited her aboard to join us for dinner. Long, delicious story short... off came several champagne corks, as did our clothes, with me devoting the entire night delivering my all, in service of fully satisfying these two lovely, willing and able wenches. I still clearly recall, at around dawn, looking up from my work -- most of which had taken place in the cooler airs of the boat's deck -- and thinking to myself, 'There cannot be a single bastard on this entire planet who feels so utterly delighted about life as I do at this moment.'

That feeling also lasted for weeks.

As a terrific book I recently finished proclaims, These Are The Days That Must Happen To You.

Amen.

cicadas
frogs
crickets
sparrows and robins and chickadees -- hell, even seagulls. pigeons, not.
my motorcycle (a mild-mannered BMW)
my mtn bike tearing through the trails
wind through leaves
my skull crackling as it expands under the hot sun