Everyone has at least one memory or two in their lives where all thinking, all worries, everything in the world both good and bad ceases to exist except for the one moment and the overwhelming feeling of just existing. The last time such a feeling came over me was nearly 18 months ago. I was walking home at around 2 AM. It was winter. I remember the heavens opening up, and it desperately pouring snow onto the ground with as much haste as possible. I don’t recall what I was doing at the time, but I do remember a silence so profound that even time itself seemed to have stopped. All that was heard was the steady rush of snowflakes colliding softly with the ground. It sounded like a roar to my soul. The snow was untouched, unspoiled. Even the streets themselves were devoid of tracks made my cars or humans. It was dark, but the sky was blood red. The odd lighting meshed weirdly into a reddish glow like some kind of soft-core house of ill repute. It was both demonic and heavenly at the same time. Scary and serene, but either way beautiful. And I remember being absorbed into a sense of perfection so perfect. I felt alive. All my senses were stimulated. My touch felt the snowflakes and the cold weather, my sight the beautiful scene, my ears the roar of a blanket being laid out one molecule at a time, my taste and scent, the snow falling, and the clean clean air. However even more profound was the sensation of being part of life. In this moment all that mattered was the moment. It was beautiful and it was perfect.

Today I once again came across the same sensation.

I was at the gym with Calvin. I was pleased to discover that my quest to get back into shape had started producing results. I’d managed to spend more time on my cardio than before, and I was lifting heavier weights for longer repetitions. We topped off the workout with a game of “cat and mouse” which consists of trying to tap your opponent’s shoulders in sparing fashion. When I exited the gym I was soaking wet with sweat, high on endorphins, tired, and content. I bade Calvin goodbye and began walking home. It was raining this time.

I had no umbrella, and my earpieces were playing “Everywhere to Me” by Michelle Branch. The rain was hard but not too hard. The air was cool, perfect for a cool down after a hard hour and a half of training. The rain was slightly warmer, and dribbled down my face, into my beard, my t-shirt, my arms, my shorts, my socks. My first reaction was fear of my ipaq in my pocket getting damaged by the rain, but after a few short moments my body gave into nature’s massage, and a feeling of euphoria came over me. I was walking, breathing deeply, absorbing the sensations. Jerry Lewis “Great Balls of Fire.” As I continued my walk, I saw people with umbrellas and a few who like me were braving the rain. I saw two souls on the way home with whom I shared the same stupid grin. I realized that I wasn’t the only one who had reached this temporary state of perfect existence. Again time stopped. Cars passed, but they didn’t exist more than was necessary in the reality which I had achieved. Traffic lights changed, but did not hinder me, the people in my way parted. I was at the center of the universe, and it felt great.