Que Sera Sara?

I sat on a broken piece of seawall this afternoon pondering the universe and sailboats. These little moments of peaceful contentment are possibly the best thing about being alive.

Why else do we spend all our time trying to attain inner peace and be happy and make room for doing nothing with all the busyness and lists and resolutions?

Moments like this one make me so full. Sated and satisfied with my chaotic, uncertain, terrifying life. (Not that it is any more so than anyone else’s, probably much less so in all honesty.)

So I resolved to harvest them.

This summer I am going to cut out these snippets of peaceful, wonderfulness and write them down. A collection of postcards to myself. Of lovely things, or flippant ones, but things I like. Things which deserve my attention.

I will write 100 words a day. (I need to practice being regular and dependable in my writing routine. I could also use the exercise paring my words to the quick. And let’s be honest: I need a system by which to keep myself on task.)

And for the sake of beautiful symmetry and random inclination I’ll do it for 100 days.