My father has a way of making hot, miserable summer days cool, enjoyable ones when coming home to light, background jazz filling his apartment. This is pure tranquility - constant everyday motions and routine slow to a stop with a piano keystroke, brush of the drums, gentle trumpet, pluck of a bass.
On a rainy day, with a few chocolate-covered espresso beans in hand, Miles Davis assures me that it is okay to be Kind of Blue. His trumpet and the pitter-patter rain drops place me in a state of calm, peace. I forget any pressing needs and just relax.