One of the most frustrating things for me as a writer is to encounter an emotional situation that cannot be captured with words. There are feelings so strong I only wish that they could be whittled down into sentences and paragraphs; I'd write pages upon pages if I could ensure to get it just right. But some things are simply felt and never explained.
Though the phrasing escapes me, these moments are some of the most beautiful and vivid memories. They are the moments I hope for in a day. They are listening to a song and feeling the lyrics are simply your heart's poetry set to music. They are watching your baby sleep and sobbing at the sight of it. They are sitting on top of a mountain, far above the rest of the world where no sound or bad thing can reach you. They are memorizing your lover's face. They are finding yourself in a swarm of people and loving the rawness of humanity.
What I love about beauty is that it can truly be found anywhere. To be moved isn't so much stumbling upon the right moments as it is softening your heart into the right position. To be moved, we must be vulnerable. We can't be too set in our ways or too keen on only one thing. To be moved we are open to the literal gorgeousness of life that swirls around in everything, every day.
Once you realize what beauty is, you get addicted to it. You seek it out. See the world; taste its splendor; smell the air; listen--like, really listen--for the music and laughter and wisdom. When you are moved, maybe it's you and a million other people. Or maybe it's you and only you, like you're living a moment the was designed for just your very soul and that's it. Try describing that.
Or don't. Learn to surrender to the pull and get swept up in it, and then store it away with the delicious knowledge that you lived those seconds or minutes or hours where you truly experienced something and you weren't distracted by trying to contain it.