The day is full of stuff. I think that is the correct noun. Stuff it in, flotsam, detritus, junk, anything and everything. So much needful arbitrariness.
Then there are the moments of tangible where the emotion is real. It doesn’t have to be big, just has to go beyond the threshold of stuff-you-have-to-do-to-get-through-the-day.
Even that takes discipline. Like slowing down enough to enjoy the ritual of opening the canister, smelling the grounds, tamping the espresso; taste the coffee and cream.
It is an effort of will to be where and when you are and to actually pay attention to the thing right in front of you. Well, at least it is for me. To get out of my head and pay attention to who and what is right there.