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Illustration by Diego Jeri

The ocean is not anxious as it swells and fades, it does not rush or sweat or glance skyward to the sun to ensure the ships are sunk and the waves crash to the shore in a timely fashion.

The sun does not rush to meet the dusk, or hurry to catch the dawn. It glides so smoothly through the sky, suspended, illuminating everything it can touch before sliding down to meet the western horizon.

I will not hasten to prove my worth, or weigh restlessly the scale of good to bed in our moral judgement. I am not impatient, nor eager to see the fruit of my labors.

I will be myself, and act myself, and the world will come to know me in the times the sun rises and falls while the waves crash against the sandy shore.