The weather changes. The tree grows. The river flows. The animal forgets. The season shifts. The seed sprouts. The wave moves.

I noticed I wanted to ask why I don’t. As if the not-doing were the problem. As if I were the holdout in a world that had already agreed.

But the weather isn’t trying. The tree isn’t deciding. The river hasn’t resolved to flow. None of them are answering a question. They’re just doing the thing.

The asking is the difference. Whatever in me wants to compare, to measure the gap, to demand of myself what the seed does without effort, that is the part that cannot move. The seed never asked.