the feeling: described poorly. [it's mine, though]

sometimes i get this feeling of ..comfort. i can feel life. reality. and i am reminded of beauty. it feels like there is so much purpose. so much to discover and learn. a little piece of life that i write down and put in a box, hoping to visit it and re-connect with the feeling at a later date. hoping to understand it better with age and maturity and life experience.

usually this feeling comes when i encounter a form of art: a song lyric, a movie line, a stanza within a poem, a photo, an illustration, etc. tonight the feeling came when i watched stranger than fiction:

"Sometimes when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And fortunately when there aren’t any cookies we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin. Or a kind and loving gesture. Or subtle encouragement. Or a loving embrace. Or an offer of comfort. Not to mention, hospital gurneys. And nose plugs. An uneaten danish. And soft-spoken secrets. And fender metal casters and maybe the occasional piece of fiction."

it might be one of those "you had to be there" moments. however, i am giving myself permission to allow it to be a moment that you (the reader, the friend, the enemy?) might not understand, and for that, it can only be named mine. my moment.