as much as i hate being at the mercy of my emotions - that sudden fist-in-the-solar-plexus burst of anxiety or inexplicable swoop of the sads for no ascertainable reason - sometimes, rarely, but often enough to make a difference, you get a gift. an equally sudden and equally inexplicable moment of grace and magic.
more than a decade later, i still remember walking to the first class i took when i returned to university - it was a spring/summer semester, the class was philosophy of science. i walked through the u of a campus in the late may afternoon and the fluff from cottonwood trees was slowly floating through the golden light and it. was. perfect. i can still see it in my mind's eye, and keep in mind this happened 15? 16 years ago? small mercies, tiny miracles,
i went for a walk this morning and in the midst of the sweaty march i suddenly found myself in exactly such a moment which rendered all things perfect. the perfect song started to play and i noticed that the grass all around was still covered in drops of dew from the morning's fog, sparkling like diamonds as far as the eye could see. the resinous scent of the sun-warmed pine needles, the clouds above the trees, the dappled sun through the leaves - all perfect. and through it all, i was filled with a deep and much needed sense of security, well-being, and hope for the future. everything was going to be all right. though one walks through beauty many times a day, it doesn't always make an impact; it doesn't always sing.
it never occurred to me until today that these perfect moments are the mirror image of the sudden sads, unexpected gifts from the out-of-control emotions, tiny highs to match the dismal lows. sure, the ratio is definitely not in their favour, but that just makes them more speshul (i imagined a bunch of 90's gifs of prancing rainbow unicorns and pink sparkly comic sans font when i wrote that last bit. forgive me.)
everything is going to be all right.