Ambedoam-bee-doh

n. A momentary trance of emotional clarity. Sometimes when you're alone and quiet, you feel an intensity that drifts in like fog—somewhere between boredom and accidental meditation. Maybe you're in bed before the day begins, or arrived somewhere early, alone with your thoughts.

You look around: shrubs swaying, the engine tinking as it cools. Details that strike you as banal now seem utterly alien. The stitching on your shoes, the tendons in your wrists. How delicate and fleeting it all seems, everything struggling just to exist.

A rush of clarity, as if shaken from a dream. You are here. You are alive. You think back to all the twists and turns that brought you here. It wasn't what you thought it would be, yet you feel gratitude that it happened at all.

Everything falls quiet. You remember you too are a guest on this Earth. Your life doesn't have to mean anything other than what it is. A single moment can stand on its own, as a morsel of existence.