I walked outside, carrying my laundry basket and it hit me. The wind was blowing and a cat romped in the vibrant green grass and it astonished me. For just a moment I had it. I knew that being alive was enough and the simplicity of existence was something I had unlearned. Every other meaning, every desperate grasp at what I thought was important, was something I had grafted on to life. I felt a heart inside the thing I called my heart. A secret heart that could barely take in the fact that trees exist.

And then it was gone and I had to do my laundry.