Maybe all movement isn't that well-defined, I thought today, watching a summer breeze go through some green oak leaves. On the surface, every motion can look circular, straight or a combination of the both. Even the most complicated movement can eventually be reduced to just that. At least, that's what I used to think.
The true beauty of any motion is that below the surface, it has this undulating urge to move. Any motion is propelled and katalysed by a force. Basically, the object of motion can be resisting this force by using another force, which in effect isn't its own but yet another force beyond its own boundaries. In that sense, every object is merely a playground for forces. Like a drop of dew hesitatingly hanging down from the tip of a leaf, being tossed around by the cohesion with the leaf on the one hand and gravity on the other. Maybe there's even a small breeze complicating the situation. Is this motion, one can wonder. I believe it is. This battle of forces contains so much energy that there must be motion, it is just not noticeable. A constant buzz so fast that it is conceived as non-motion.
This non-motion in both the visual and even auditive sense (i.e. silence) is the most powerful motion there is. Because it bears potential; the fight hasn't been won yet, the two lips haven't touched each other yet.
