in on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splend

Take out a white piece of paper and place it on your kitchen table. You now have two choices. You can write or draw on it, or you can leave it there.

If you write or draw, you control the paper's destiny, the words or images it will express, the character it will display, the very meaning of its existence.

If you choose to leave it on your kitchen table, it will remain white. Over time, if left undisturbed, it will slowly turn yellow, old and weary, with no character and no meaning.

But wait.

It will not be left undisturbed. Surely something will spill on it. If your kitchen table sees the kind of abuse ours does, it won't take a day before there's a strawberry stain on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splendo

raw, you control the paper's destiny, the words or images it will express, the character it will display, the very meaning of its existence.

If you choose to leave it on your kitchen table, it will remain white. Over time, if left undisturbed, it will slowly turn yellow, old and weary, with no character and no meaning.

But wait.

It will not be left undisturbed. Surely something will spill on it. If your kitchen table sees the kind of abuse ours does, it won't take a day before there's a strawberry stain on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splend

your kitchen table, it will remain white. Over time, if left undisturbed, it will slowly turn yellow, old and weary, with no character and no meaning.

But wait.

It will not be left undisturbed. Surely something will spill on it. If your kitchen table sees the kind of abuse ours does, it won't take a day before there's a strawberry stain on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splend

t will not be left undisturbed. Surely something will spill on it. If your kitchen table sees the kind of abuse ours does, it won't take a day before there's a strawberry stain on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splend

in on it, perhaps a few drops of milk or syrup, or maybe some stray mashed potatoes.

That paper is your life.

We can let fate take its course, splashing the splendor of life's stray mashed potatoes across our lives, or we can define our own meaning.

It's up to each of us.

What's your choice?

Isn't this a great little exercise to pass along to your friends?