Taken together, the sentence proposes a way to live: as if you are composing. Motion doesn’t require a grand announcement; it requires a next note. Sometimes that note is restraint—choosing not to escalate, not to perform, not to fill every gap. Paradoxically, restraint is often what makes a piece intelligible.
Finally, Cummings offers a quiet kind of courage. If even silent decisions can become music, then you don’t need to wait for certainty or spectacle to begin. You can start with a small, intentional movement, and trust that the pattern will gather sound as you go. [...]
