It all felt right

Every person makes a difference. Good people just make it more positive, healthy and light.
Join a couple of well-intentioned people in one kitchen with delicious cruelty-free dinner and you'll get a one fucking long dinner. And it's going to be amazing. And FULFILLING.
I just came home from one of these. It's 2 am and the bed is calling, but I want to check if the peaceful me is still capable of writing. And I am. Whether it's "good" writing or "bad" writing it's not up to me, but from a personal experience- most of us had a generous dose of sensationalist drama education. Either drama or comedy, even though comedy tends to be constructed out of broken into pieces drama. Striving for peace of mind seems to be a cyclic occurence, and maybe this is the first time that a generation is striving for a peaceful coexistence ever since the 60's.
I don't seem to have another insight to add, so I'll go into descriptions.
The kitchen was meant for a 3/4-people-sized family, there was at least 6 of us permanently, and a few dozens of people had passed there, randomly popping either to get some food, get to the bathroom, or just for a chat.
The people I ended up focusing on were not carrying any strong beliefs or impositions, they also ate in small portions, but repeatedly over the course of several hours. They sipped on alcohol, I smoked a cigarette and toked on a hash joint. And the music in the background suited the whole situation miraculously. And I was still my problems, my victories and my old skins ---and that was fine. It felt organic to the whole, nothing to cut off and nothing to polish. Things were just how they were forming in real time, and that was all we needed.
The kitchen had a barstand and one of the girls stood there for a really long time, silent - observing others. I cought her stare twice and was pleasantly comforted by her eyes resting in place , meaning we were able to establish something in that short exchange. Felt right.
I just want to be - as cheesy as it sounds - the best version possible, but be. Being. Becoming.
Me and M talked about wars, manipulation and suffering - there was no political stence, there was a shared moment of grieving. And after there was a moment of shared will for positive action. And after I went back to the kitchen. The dynamics rolled on in pleasantly constant shifts. The night strolled by as me and D strolled home, and even though we have decided not to stay longer, we left our best in that kitchen. A hug and 'see you very soon'. Now home.