The sinusoidal curve model of human emotion outlined some time ago is a useful one, but it is not applicable - even approximately - in every case.
You will recall that the model suggests the fluctuation of mood in a fairly regular pattern: or everything that goes up must come down. 'Fairly regular' gives us some leeway, but there comes a time when we must accept that our thinking is flawed.
The idea of moving towards and away from something still holds good, though. If we take the zero line of the curve as the reference point, then any mood swing at all moves us away from neutral, and towards either complete ecstasy or bottomless misery. Only the rate of motion - its predictability - changes.
I woke up on Tuesday morning feeling extremely 'close' to everything. That is, when I looked at the cat, for example, I could not only detect his excitement as we went through his routine - showing him just enough of a finger or hand to arouse his attacking instincts, the rest of it hidden beneath a cushion, then withdrawing it just in time to miss the slashing, destructive claws - but his determination and playfulness became part of me. I was overwhelmed by a simple, feline joy, suspended in a cattish frame of mind as we did battle.
On any given day, I love the cat. I love him with a big, blank adoration - gestures of my feelings towards him are so conditioned by now that I do them without thinking: talking to him as I'd talk to an adult human, buying him food fit for human consumption. Gestures of love, in this case, are framed by humanity.
It is not the case that, on any given day, I replicate his experiences. It happens only infrequently, on the days when everything is proximate. L is close, transcending her gender; man and cat share the same small space, and neither are uncomfortable. The indivisible wonder and intricacy of nature is apparent, even though I do not claim (like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross) to be able to see the interaction of every atom.
I refer to a vision, a sentiment, which has its limits, but my eye worms in as far as it can. I can no more predict the days when my vision will be enhanced than I can predict the weather - so I treat their occurrence as akin to a gift, albeit one which perishes quickly.
