This is, very frankly, what I was trying to say originally in The Nature of Beauty.
While the persistent state of being serene can encompass contentment, that it might even be presumed in the understanding of the word, the latter is a much more slippery thing than the former. So much so that I struggle calling it a state of being even though I am pretty sure it’s not an emotion.
There is beauty in a moment captured that we otherwise wouldn’t see because it flies by so fast or happens so far away we wouldn’t even know it exists. There is beauty in not only the line and form and movement of a dancer, but also in the simple physical effort of dancing, and there is certainly beauty in the smile of a child full of joy.
I do know that kindness is often equated to weakness, but that as well is a fence built by experience and sway from those that have come before us who’ve built one themselves. It is in fact a primitive muscular strength, one pillar of many holding up the foundations of the homes we continually build for ourselves throughout our lives.