It was an ordinary day.

Those more often than not are the ones worth commenting on for it's in the ordinary that so much is decided.

So I got out of bed a little later than usual. That extra spring in my step has been elusive lately. You know, sometimes we go through those periods where

it just becomes challenging to get excited about everyday things we forget why we're on the path we're on.

Or as the distinction goes, the fleeting passion has dissipated. And what we're left with, hopefully, is purpose.

Purpose is what pulls us through the low points. Purpose is what we latch on to when things

aren't exciting or we've fallen down. We look up and say, ah, that's the reason I'm here. That's the reason I will endure. And when we lose that,

we're due for rediscovery of some sort. Finding it again becomes of the utmost importance.

If you think of one single star, alone in the night sky, sure, it's beautiful in its own

right. But it also feels like it's missing part of what makes it so spectacular. The collective.

Just like one small step forward or one win or overcoming one obstacle, getting through one day is great.

But it doesn't become magnificent until you look at it in the context of the whole, the bigger picture.

And if you can't see the bigger picture, you lose the power of all those little pieces that bring it to life.

Meaning brings magic to the mundane.

Sometimes I like to think of a character collecting those stars.

Putting them into a bag he's carrying over his shoulder, picking them up and dropping them in one by one,

moving around the night,

and collecting those little glowing stories

that will ultimately come to mean everything.

Eventually, he turns his bag upside down and the stars fall out. And you get this jaw-dropping,

spiraling sea of light, milky way. You remember now why each little star matter. Do you think back and

go, ah, that makes sense? Difficult to see in the moment.

...