Sometimes, life feels like an empty room where climbing, waiting, or simply hesitating are equally valid.
Before every step, a stair appears. Before every thought, a bench.
Most of the time, we choose without knowing whether we are ascending toward something — or merely moving away from something else.
Each step is a question.
Each pause, a quieter one.
And then there’s the choice to sit.
To go nowhere.
To watch, silently, as the light spills through the window and sketches out possibilities we’ll never claim.
Perhaps it’s not resignation.
Perhaps it is the deepest form of awareness — the one that no longer needs to arrive, because it understands that everything is already here.
In a sliver of light.
In a quiet bench.
In the stillness of choice.