More moments

I'm still thinking about the idea of holy moments, after the video clip below. I seek them out. It feels like it ought to be more about recognizing them than generating them, but maybe without our noticing they don't truly exist.
My holy moment a few days ago was reading this extract from 'The Water Will Hold You' by Lindsey Crittenden and, in particular, her holy moment during a hesitant visit to an 8am eucharist service at a church. You can read the rest here.

The priest, a pleasant-looking woman with cardboard-colored hair and rose-tinted glasses, started by talking about call, a strong inner prompting, often interpreted as divine vocation...enumerating the inherent risk and opportunity for connection in following a hunch, in taking a chance...

"He looked," the priest read, from Rilke's description of the appearance of the angel Gabriel to the teenaged Mary, "and she looked up at him, their looks so merged in our..."

Every pore in my body seemed to open, every word to chip away at something inside me. "The world outside grew vacant suddenly, and all things being seen, endured and done, were crowded into them." I thought of...moments...when I felt most intensely the struggle to open up, to be seen...As the priest finished the poem - "Just she and he - see, this arouses fear" - tears ran down my cheeks. The poem had stunned me."