# Snippets of Clarity

## The Quiet Power of Fragments

Life hands us snippets—fleeting thoughts in the shower, a kind word from a stranger, the curve of steam rising from morning coffee. These aren't grand narratives but tiny shards of the now. "Snippets.md" feels like a digital jar for them: plain text files in Markdown, holding just enough to remember without overwhelming. No frills, no endless scrolls. In a world chasing completeness, these fragments remind us that meaning hides in the partial, the unfinished.

## Capturing Without Clutter

I started keeping snippets years ago, on quiet evenings like this one near the winter solstice. A single line about patience. A note on how frost etches windows like delicate handwriting. Markdown strips it bare: headers, lists, italics. No ads, no algorithms deciding what's next.

- A snippet from last week: "Breath in, world out."
- Another: "Trees don't rush their roots."

They stack like bricks, unassuming until a pattern emerges—a philosophy of presence, built from pauses.

## Weaving the Larger Tapestry

Over time, snippets connect. What felt scattered becomes a map: regrets softened, joys amplified. The domain whispers this truth—save the bits, trust the whole will form. It's not about perfection but persistence, one note at a time. In 2025's rush, this feels like mercy.

*One snippet today: enough.*