What is The Bliss Quest?
What is TheBlissQuest?
I’ve been blogging about the quest for bliss long enough now that new readers stumble over the site and don’t know really what it’s about. So here’s a recap of the Quest.
My name is Athena. I legally do not have a last name – it’s just Athena.
18 months ago I decided I needed to discover what bliss was. I knew what I thought it should be, but I wanted to know for myself if I was following my bliss, or the bliss that other people wanted for me.
I packed up my apartment, loaded my jeep, Freya, and drove off in search of Bliss.
I have found it in glimpses, spurts and like a trail of breadcrumbs; it leads ever-onward to the constant re-evolution of self and adventure. Much of what I thought Bliss might be, turned out to be a mirage. Most of what truly made me happy were the small things. Flickers in time, moments too brief to capture with film, too ephemeral to immortalize in words. True flashes of Bliss have to be felt in the moment and thought about later, because if you’re thinking about whether or not it’s Bliss – you’re not there yet. The tissue paper is torn and the moment can’t be put back together. However, if you enjoy the moment, then later as the memory or the feeling is filed away and your mind hums with joy, your body vibrates with the aftershocks of excitement and your soul feels a sense of contented peace – reflect then, on the possibility that you have been swept up by Bliss. Take a second for gratitude, because as I’ve discovered, you are completely different from one moment of Bliss to the next. Evolved. Revolutionized. New. Here are some of my moments of Bliss.
Bliss is a phone call from a dear friend. Bliss is chasing an electrical storm through the Petrified Forest. It’s traveling through desert in 5th gear with the top off the jeep, while jamming out to The Who. It’s dressing up like Indiana Jones to see a midnight showing of my favorite movie in a historic Seattle theatre.
Bliss is three laughing nieces and ice cream. It’s standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon during a 20 year tropical storm and inhaling the knowledge that I was the one who drove myself there, each turn –each choice – mine.
Bliss is a shot of Pyrat and a good cigar.
Bliss is red pair of Dorothy shoes. It’s a package of fresh peaches and a cup of raspberries from Pike Place Market.
Bliss is the echo of glaciers calving into the bay in Prince William Sound. It’s the laughter of friends around a table of good food served with stories and jokes that can only be described as “wrong”.
Bliss is realization that my life can be everything I want it to be.
Bliss is that awkward feeling when I discover I kind of really like someone. Bliss is sitting solo on a beach in Northern California to witness a sunset tailor made for a cup of thermos tea and a good hard cry. Bliss is people-watching in Santa Fe.
Bliss is picking up a stray in Arizona.
It’s listening to the philharmonic and Andréa in the botanical garden. It’s closing my eyes and turning my face up to the full moon. Bliss is smiling for the first time without braces.
Bliss is a cooler full of roses, gladiolas and daisies at my sister’s shop. It’s a puppy named Xena snuggled up under my chin.
Bliss is a number five on the menu at Vivace’s.
Bliss is a cup of Vietnamese coffee on the sidewalk on 10th and Glisan.
Bliss is standing at the intersection and finally understanding that I can pick a direction and go. Bliss is talking to my dad, a smile from my sisters, hugs from my brothers and watching my nieces grow into women.
Bliss is sleeping on the mossy cliff top of my favorite writing spot in Valdez, Alaska. It’s a cup of oily coffee from the Totem. It’s shaking hands with strangers met in random situations and locations and becoming kindred spirits.
Bliss is writing. It’s words, and story and creation. Bliss is a trek through forest canopies of amber, gold and scarlet.
Bliss is seeing my name in print, and holding the advanced copy of a book I busted ass for. Bliss is calling my friends to tell them the news.
Bliss is getting my first film finished. It’s the scent of fresh ground coffee in the morning. Bliss is rain, moody skies and a city that is loaded with people just as weird as I am. Bliss the hum of tires on asphalt, coffee in the cup holder, camera in the pack, gear in the tub and a wrinkled roadmap on the floor. It’s the sound of surf, the smell of ocean, the feeling of sand underfoot and wind in my hair. It’s the well made plan tossed aside, and a new course plotted.
It’s the maniacal laughter that ensues after confronting a disproportionate fear and discovering it didn’t kill me and therefore, I don’t need to be afraid any longer.
Bliss is making a living doing what I love. It’s knowing that I can support myself by being in alignment with what makes me happy. Bliss is crawling in to bed at 4 am after a 16 hour day of being creative and falling then, into a deep sleep rich with dreams of far away travels.
Bliss is cherries. It’s handing flowers to people who need them. It’s inviting a stranger out to see the city I love. Bliss is sitting at Chance of Rain to drink an Americano and play scrabble on the sidewalk. It’s knowing phantoms can’t hurt me anymore.
Bliss is camping with peeps in the forest and arguing over ancient memories of childhood, “he said she said”. It’s realizing that I’m finally at home in my own skin. Bliss is letting go of the things that are not really that important or hold you back.
Bliss is acting, doing, being. It’s that moment when you step out of your comfort zone – it’s terrifying. Bliss is the exhilaration of having just changed your horizon, permanently.
Love is Bliss.
Laughter is Bliss.
Art is Bliss.
Challenge is Bliss.
Travel is Bliss.
Creativity is Bliss.
Connection is Bliss.
Home is Bliss.
Freedom is Bliss.
Becoming is Bliss.
Music is Bliss.
Life is Bliss.
Gratitude is Bliss.
The quest continues, but I will update with breadcrumbs as I find them 
Bliss is the profound and blinding discovery that I was homesick – which meant, I knew exactly where my home was, so I packed up my jeep, Freya, and drove right back to Portland – back to where it all began. Now having gone in search of Bliss, and finding enough of it that I know what it is – I can never settle for a life without it.
Future experiments with Bliss include:
Does skydiving cause Bliss?
Does romance create Bliss?
Does white-water kayaking encourage Bliss?
Does re-decorating manufacture Bliss?
Will New Zealand give me Bliss?
Will more film work push me over the edge of Bliss?
Will falling in love completely Bliss me out?
