I have this, really strong affinity for moments of peace and quiet.
Maybe it's ongoing search for balance, I have a need for balance, in the midst of a chaotic day-to-day existence.
Maybe more it's predisposition to reservation, a silent urge for the stoic and somber.
Maybe, just maybe, it's some profound connection to the universe and space, a yearning for what and where we came from, black nothingness in an endless void, that harkens to a time lost, the cells in my body remembering their roots. It could likely be a combination of all of these, and others unmentioned.
Ultimately, I have a strong desire for those fleeting moments of calm wherein I can appreciate the quiet.
Like I mentioned earlier, I feel the day to day is chaotic and crazy and in my search for balance, I find peace in those fleeting moments of subtlety we all experience, but few remember to appreciate.
The collective sigh of passengers on a not-so-packed subway car, the swirl of dust caught indoors as the sun's ray passes by, the lingering gaze of eyes on a person, place, thing, desired.
As I search for these moments, though, I find myself being pulled from the din of reality and I wonder, is my search for these quiet subtleties directly against what life is? Life is a mess, life is chance and luck, life is random. These quiet subtleties that I search are, in their own nature, peaceful and predetermined.
But I think that's what makes them so full of life - that you never know when you those quiet subtleties will be upon you so that when you do find yourself in a part of one, you appreciate it more.
Or, at least, I know I do.