A lot of what I spend my time doing is staring broadly into space putting together sentences. It’s pulling words from thin air and arranging them to be palatable. But it probably just looks like I’m doing nothing, staring at the breeze.

I often find the words on that breeze, but sometimes they blow right by me, onto the next person searching for them. I accept the ones that land as a gift from the randomness of the universe, and I surrender that they can’t all land where I need them to.

At very least, I have the cool air of this late spring morning. At most, I have the untapped energy of the universe. Typically the words are somewhere in the middle, where everything else is.