Those napkin notes in your lunchbox were someone squeezing a hug into a paper bag. Keep one.
GRATITUDE
WHAT THIS MEANS
A note in a lunch is affection sent forward in time. Someone sat in a kitchen in the morning, thought about your middle of the day, and found a way to be there when they could not be. Six words on a napkin is not a small gesture; it is a whole one in the only container available.
If you still have one anywhere, put it where it will not get thrown out. If you do not, write one and leave it for somebody else, in a backpack, on a steering wheel, beside the coffee. The format travels.
A QUESTION TO SIT WITH
What small written thing from home did you throw away?
MORE IN GRATITUDE & PRESENCE
- More than two billion people still lack safely managed drinking water. Your faucet is not a small thing.
- Listen to the train for a minute before you put your earbuds in. The rhythm on the tracks is its own kind of song.
- Ride your bike with no destination once this summer. It’s the closest thing to flying you can do on a Tuesday.
Free, with nothing to buy inside it.