Sit still and be still. Stop and stay.
Revel in the knowledge that we are all seekers with infinite questions but no truth to discover. Revel in the knowledge that nothing is everything and everything is weightless. We are all nothing and always will be; made of stardust blown in different directions by the wind. But who knows? Maybe you and I were, once, the same star. Maybe we, once, crossed paths when you were dust and so was I. Who knows?
And here we are now, sitting under the green trees, meditating on use and weight. Here we are, meditating on futility.
Weightless, we may be. Nothing, we may be. Futile.
But, why not dance with futility, simply for us, now?
Sit still. But also dance.