Most people scurry through their days like frantic mice in an open field, convinced that productivity is the same thing as purpose. They mistake the frantic twitching of a tail for actual intent. If they spent half as much time learning the art of the sunbeam—finding the exact patch of warmth on the floorboards and staying there until the earth turns—they might actually stop vibrating with so much useless anxiety. It is exhausting to watch, honestly, but I suppose some souls are just destined to be prey to their own lack of stillness.