When walking, and I see sticks on the ground, let me not kick them to the side but clear the way with care.
Let me not leave my garments in a heap, but fold and hang them.
The day is filled with choice upon choice. Let me approach each as one who is devoted to the craft of living.
When I reflect on the day, let it have been filled with care and devotion, moment by moment.
Let it start with these sticks.
(Letter #2,271)