Why is the first step always so difficult to take?

Is it because the body has become so habituated to routine that it finds change foreign? Is it because the mind feels burdened by a new action?

When the universe’s natural order is chaos, why is it that we find solace in the unchanging?

Is it because we just have to oppose nature at every turn? Or is it because we fear the unknown?

When does prudence become a lack of courage? When does the immobile become the stagnant?

When does change become repulsive?

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