At a garden on campus, I see a bluejay pecking at capsules holding meaty pecans high above. She flits between branches to remove her prey from its branch. Nervous, she glances left, right, up, down, seeking out predators with a literal flight or flight response intact and spring-loaded. Her’s is a world of dangers and threats too innumerable to avoid long-term. She and those she nurtures await a life of constant fearing and ceaselessness.

How often do so many of us live this way?
How many of us forget that we are blessed to be able to cease?

cease; v.

Bring or come to an end.

Author: Ben Fridge


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