It's an underrated high; suddenly or retrospectively acknowledging a routine made possible by the body without the conscious intervention of one's mind. When you stop to dwell on the significance of small motor gestures made at the level of physiology, you might, like me, be marvelled by the body's intelligence in how it relates to the environment that constitutes its habitat.

For instance, I discovered two days ago that the last thing I do before settling into bed at night is the same as the first thing I do upon getting out of it. I gaze respectively at the night and morning sky. Because it is winter, and because I sleep at approximately the same time each night, I know where I'm likely to find Orion. Perhaps my body is subconsciously locating itself astrologically, reminding itself of its existence within larger constellations of thought, feeling, and being. At a not-so-profound level, more often than not, it's a sense of new-comer awe that inflects my perception.