Platitude

She slumped down in a chair opposite him and declared "I don't think I can do this."

He looked up and asked "Why not?"

"It's hard, and it takes too much time, and - are you even listening?" she finished, seeing that he had returned to the piece of paper he was writing on.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I was just waiting for you to finish so I could offer you a platitude to cheer you up."

She laughed at that. "A platitude, huh? 'A journey starts with a single step'. Something like that?"

He smiled. "Yeah, that seems about right."

"Come on, you can do better than that!" she challenged. "Come up with an original platitude. I dare you."

He sighed, and put down his pen. "Fine," he said. He took her gently by the shoulders and led her to a wall. "Take a step forward."

She did so.

"Now take another step forward, but this time only half the size."

She did so.

"Good. Keep doing that, but keep halving your step each time."

She did so, and he returned to his paper. He seemed oblivious to the fact that she was barely moving, her feet moving by less than a millimeter. Soon, she was certain she wasn't even moving at all. "I'm not getting anywhere."

"That's precisely my point," he said, not looking up.

She frowned. "I don't get it."

"If you keep moving like that, you'll never reach the other side of the room. You'll die first. The Universe would die first. It's impossible."

She looked down at her feet. "Huh."

"Some things are impossible. Like that. Or counting every number. What's bothering you isn't. You can do it. It's hard, yes, but not impossible. And if it's not impossible, then, logically, you can do it," he grinned at her. "How's that for a platitude?"

She looked at him. "If that was a platitude, I think a straight philosophical theory from you would probably blow my mind."