Do you know that feeling?
Do you know what I'm talking about?
If not, perhaps this will be something new and exciting for you to discover and explore.
Let me explain it better;
I think, though it is a personal opinion shared without proper research, that such moments, such attachments to the things and senses that create these simple retreats from the human compulsion to ever be in movement, or even to ever remove ourselves from the simplicities of basic existence such as recognizing the world around us and not expecting less or more of it, begin their creation when young, though how young I could not say, and reach some sense of maturity in development at a variety of ages.
Perhaps some individuals have learned how to reliably replicate those moments, or have learned where to go to fulfill the requirements that only that meshing of specific human senses can accomplish for them. Others may suffer from a lack of understanding, unsure of how to gain that momentary relief, unable to recognize their own recipe or not conscious to the fact that they even have such an opportunity.
Some of us are terrible at recreating our piece of soul breathing paradise. Indeed, we try to combine the elements, hoping they'll stick together, but they inevitably fall apart, like a pyramid of cards, or other ingredients keep finding their way in, creating a mess of what should have been simple cohesiveness.
Some people refuges, the special aromas, the blissful sounds, their memory filled sanctuaries, have been utterly torn to shreds by some of those extra 'ingredients', and they must start over with a mature mind, more fearful and overly cautious than that of their wild and free viewpoint as a child. Paradise lost completely. But they must start over, they cannot continue without it, else they risk crumbling as their sanctuary, the soul without it's rest left to the buffetings of the world.
The minds of adults try too hard to dismiss the wonder that they once held as a child, making creating, remembering, or visiting our individual refuges so much the harder. When we are children we live in those moments, piecing our special one together bit by bit. Children recognized those moments for what they are; moments of pure joy, moments of peace, moments of contentment, moments of excitement, moments of true sorrow, and most of those moments are tied to simplicity. They spend their time jumping from moment to moment, feeling to feeling, recognizing the simplicity, but not realizing how quickly it will be lost in their futures.
Can you imagine living like that; jumping from moment to moment and just living in it without rushing to the next, just appreciating it fully?
Once adults we find it hard to relate as completely to those moments, we tend to speed past them, too worried about getting to the next moment, but then long for them later with a sickening nostalgia. Our longing, more often than not, involves a desire to be content, at peace, without the entrapping feelings that we place upon ourselves; the ever building need and guilt to do more, to continually be doing, even if we do not answer the call and ignore it as best we can. Ignoring the call to progress is not the same as that moment, or those feelings, that I speak of. Ignoring is a sign of desperation, a loss of hope, and the fleeting feelings that come with that moment of personal contentment and peace can be just as hard to procure as it is for those that are always busy.
For me that specific, personalized set of senses and events involves rain. Cloudy skies, and passing storms, the soft relentless onslaught of cold drops falling in a green environment. This renewing of the earth via a lengthy shower and mellowed colors and contrast helps me breathe easier. I think it has something to do not only with the moving of the world around me, but also the lack of glaring sun on my eyes. I don't do well in the sun for long, hence the reason I prefer the deeper, darker woodlands.
The rain is a must, but add onto that more greenery, forests or bushes or garden, and my soul begins to awake. Watching water droplets fall off the tips of ferns or collect in the cups of flowers' petals. Greenery is were life prevails in the form of bees and dragonflies, frogs and birds, even what we called roly poly bugs (pill bugs) as children, and the occasional worm struggling above the ground. Having these critters around me, to watch, not necessarily to interact with, on a rainy day is, for me at least, refreshing, and begins to make me into an observer, looking less inward and feeling more outwardly as if I am just another creature, making its way through the plant life, finding a dry spot, and waiting through the rain. For me no other kind of weather can do this, though a snow storm comes close, only rain can affect me in this manner.
Now! We have rain and greenery, but turn the season to autumn, add a cup of peppermint tea or specialty seasoned hot cocoa, a warm sweater or blanket, and we're really getting somewhere! I have a favorite candle (Yankee Candle's Midsummer's Night) that I burn when I feel the moment coming on, folk music(Sleeping at Last or Oh Hellos) or simple piano music (Ludovico Einaudi) to keep the air simple, comfortable, thoughtful, and personal, and to complete it usually my daily tasks reflect calmer processes; baking bread or cookies, writing in my journal or reading a book, painting or looking back through photos. I could call this a type of Hygge, and I won't argue against it being so, but the other part of it all, what truly completes this special moment for me, is being alone.
Many people avoid being alone, some are pressed into thinking they need to always be with others, and some feel like they are being strangled by the amount of people constantly near them. I think we are often judged for wanting to, or needing to be alone, but it's when the air clears of voices, of everyone's needs, of the continual interruptions, that I finally can sense how I actually feel, what my thoughts are, and I remember that I am a person, not a machine, not a maid, not just another thing in a place doing the same things over and over again. When I'm alone and I can let my mind focus on something revitalizing and fulfilling for more than a second or two is necessary for me to find that rare feeling of being content and of being one with the world around me.
Now back to you.
Do you know the feeling I'm talking about now?
Do you understand how to recreate it when needed?
If not, don't be hard on yourself, don't feel hopeless. This is, after all, a learned concept. Maybe start by paying attention to what allows you to breathe easy. Not just breathe but really breathe without feeling like you need to move on immediately. Study the situations, the little things, or big things, that allow you to just feel like you are alive without needing to rush, without needing to be entertained, without needing anything really. Just being alive is enough. Put yourself in situations where you can't be distracted, where you can just sit, or stand, or lay down, and know that just that is enough. Then study it with your mind, what about that place, that moment, those senses, creates that environment? Maybe you discover something small, maybe you discover it all in the first try, maybe you need to experiment more. 
That's okay, you're not alone in learning this idea, we're all figuring it out. The cool part is that, when it happens, when those elements aline just right to fill your soul and allow you to feel that much life, that much peace, running through you, you'll recognize it. Your soul will recognize it. Hang on to it as long as you can, there will always be more to get done, more distractions, more complications in life, so be kind to yourself, hang on to that moment, those feelings, and allow yourself to be content with life once in a while.
