There's this Jim Jarmusch film, Paterson that stayed with me. It's such a simple film. It's about this bus driver named Paterson who lives in Paterson, New Jersey. Every day, he gets up, has breakfast, goes to his job, comes home, has dinner with his wife who adores him and he clearly adores her, takes his dog out for a walk, stops at a bar, has exactly one beer, comes home, reads, and goes to bed.

But wait a minute. In the morning, sometimes when he's eating his cereal, he has a notebook out and he's writing poetry. During the few minutes that he's sitting in his bus, waiting for his dispatcher to check in with him, he's writing poetry. During lunch when he's sitting at a bench in a park, he's writing poetry.

And that's the film. Sure, there are small dramas. His wife is always redecorating the house. She is taking a mail order guitar course with a television teacher named Esteban. The guy's bus breaks down. His dog eats his poetry notebook. He sighs, and begins another.

And that's kind of my life at the moment, and I think it may be for most of the rest of it. I have my little dramas. I deal with them.

And through it all, I write letters. I transcribe the letters and extract the stuff in the middle where I muse about something, the way I did in this letter when I mused about Paterson. Then I clean up that part for publication and I publish it on my website, derekleif.org. Then I record myself reading it, publish it on YouTube, and embed it on my website with the corresponding letter excerpt.

I'm building this steady collection of what I think and hope are small, good things. That's become a mantra for me: Do Small Good Things. Not everything has to be a home run. In fact, there are a few home runs. Most of my life is about my aspiration to just hit one single after another.

It sort of creeps up on me. I just keep writing and after a few weeks go by, I look back and notice that I've written dozens of these miniatures and there's this quiet feeling of satisfaction that I reflect on having actually completed a number of things as opposed to constantly aspiring to make a few massive things and never having much to show for it. And wouldn't you know it, we've reached the end of another sheet of cardstock. Be well, friend.