Someone once asked...

How do I find meaning in ordinary days?

Someone answered with kindness...

I once watched an old monk sweep the same courtyard he'd swept for forty years. I asked if it ever felt pointless. He said, "The courtyard doesn't stay clean. I don't sweep it to finish. I sweep it because right now, it needs sweeping." We keep waiting for meaning to arrive as something large — a calling, a big achievement, a defining year. Most days won't hand you that. But an ordinary day held with attention is not empty; it's just quiet. Meaning often hides less in what you do, and more in how awake you are while doing it.

This sign has found its fate.