The Movement of Standing Still

Flexibility.

Rigidity. 

I feel as though I cycle through these modes endlessly. Some days, I’m adaptable, tolerant. Other days, I’m stiff, immoveable, uncompromising. 

Some days, I am strong. Some days, I am weak. 

Life holds these moments, passing them to and fro. I see it echoed in the movement of the sun over my head, the passing of clouds in and out of view. I see the earth beneath my feet turn to mush, rainy day after rainy day. I see it harden too, baking in that moveable sun. 

Back to the sun. 

The center of the universe. Unchanging, yet volatile. It stands still. From where I stand, it appears the moveable thing. But I am the thing moving, the thing shifting position, even as I stand still. 

All truths are paradoxes, my friend says to me. 

I think she is right. The sun in its great distance, seems to be standing still. Yet, we know it fluctuates in its volatility. I seem to be standing still, but I am moving at the rate of one revolution per day.

Two things I know – I am changeable. I remain the same.

Both/And.

Candidly,

Ash 

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