those precious, fleeting moments, when you are tending to something mundane or even tedious. Those moments when you are mindlessly putting away laundry that have been hanging on the rail for weeks, or carelessly scouring dishes that have seasoned to the cold, unkempt counter top…
And your thoughts slow to a halt; your emotions dwindle to a nihilty – and all that is left is nothing. No thought, no emotion, no sensation.
Everything ceases to exist.
And you look around, and everything seems alright.
Not perfect, not amazing, not even great – but just alright.
You feel like everything is and will be alright.
You know that everything is and will be alright.
Everything, from the running child upstairs, to the endless mysteries of the universe.
There is no purpose, there is no meaning.
There is nothing.
A beautiful nonexistence, a profound sense of peace: acceptance and understanding.
But then the moment passes. And all that is left is sadness. Not sadness akin to the low mood when faced with bad weather, or the sense of loss of losing a best friend. Sadness, in its purest and most devastating form.
I am shattered; fallen, defeated. Enveloped in this profound sense of grief. Heart sunken and empty, a void deeper than sorrow, a mood of dispair that exceeds melancholy – knowing that the moment is gone and I will never feel that way again.