I came upon a moment of delight one afternoon last week. It took me by surprise in the McDonald’s drive-thru.

If you’re stronger than me and haven’t been through the drive-thru there, it’s got two lanes that merge into one after people place their orders. A few times over the summer, this caused me great anxiety. I don’t know why I ever thought I was in such a hurry to get anywhere, but if the two lanes had the same number of cars in them, it suddenly became the most important thing in the world to choose the right lane. Not the one that’s not on the left, but the correct one, of course. There must be a correct one, right?

It happened a few times before I really noticed what was going on — the mind wanders so easily and can jump from thought to thought for enormous amounts of time without us even noticing. But what really was going on was … insanity. My entire mood — at least for a short time, just a moment or two — would depend on whether I beat the car that came in after me to the merge; otherwise, I’d chosen wrong.

It never escalated into anything more than me thinking how stupid I am for picking the wrong lane. But it’s evolved into me realizing how silly I was to ever care about which lane I chose in a drive-thru.

Part of what makes this form of insanity even stranger, is that over the few times I was worried about my place in line, I bet I chose the “wrong” lane four out of five times. Which brings me back to last week.

It was around midday, and I went to McDonald’s to get some lunch. When I pulled up, the drive-thru was backed up a bit, with four or five cars per lane ready to order. When it was my turn to pick a lane, I did so with no stress, I’m happy to report. I fully realized that, even though I was on my way back to work, there’s nothing pressing that should make me feel rushed.

But, boy, did I pick the right lane! It was as if Moses himself descended from heaven and cleared it out for me.

So, a few cars moved through my side of the line while an elderly couple in a small SUV in the inside lane asked questions about the menu or had a hard time deciding what to order. Soon it was time to merge, and they still hadn’t finished their order. I pulled straight ahead, allowing the car behind me to reach the speaker to place their order, but not moving any closer in the line.

Finally, the elderly couple placed their order, and I waved at them to go in front of me. They just looked at me, so I waved again. Then they pulled forward and merged in front of me. This caused slight anxiety.

Did they not see me wave the first time? Did I do something wrong? Did they feel bad about holding up the line for so long and didn’t want to skip ahead? Did they think or say under their breath, “What’s this yahoo doing? He ordered before us; he goes before us. If we go before him, they might try to give us his food, or screw up our order — if not everyone’s!”

A minute later, I looked up and saw a worker hand the old man an ice cream cone. He took a lick, and I could see them through the back window as he handed it to the woman beside him, I assume his wife. And just then I noticed I had a big smile on my face. My heart was warmed. I pictured going on ice cream runs with my wife when we’re in our 70s and 80s, and it made everything in the world, for that moment, perfect.

I think it’s important to look for those moments of delight. Learning to recognize them is nothing short of life-changing — if even for a moment — and they’re already all around you.

Had I been the maniac version of myself, I surely would’ve basked in the rare joy of choosing the correct lane, but I would have missed a beautiful moment.