Capturing the Present Moment Through the Lens of Words

Not sure what to attribute a slightly empty feeling that comes over me. It could be finishing writing a letter. It could be end of a long day. It could be something else. As echoes of other languages fade in my field of perception, just as waves from fruits a leaning tree may yield to a pond on an August evening would also weaken over time in their capacity to blur and disturb the surface of a mirror that a lake is when seen from a particular angle. If ourselves are such mirrors, than I am more like a pond that one would usually look into that in being what it is is just impenetrable so that one might need enough distance from it in order to enjoy the vaunted reflection effect. I am not sure if I suggest that to look into oneself and to see anything clearly there one needs the benefit of a distance, be it temporal, be it spatial, or be it psychological, which could mean a combination of the first two. Space could be key in its other, macro dimension in that not only how we are related to ourselves directly that makes perception and, probably self-perception, different but also where we are in terms of a system of independent coordinates that positions us, conditions what we feel and how we do that. Maybe languages are just such systems of coordinates that do their positioning work, each differently and each out of our control.