Taking a glance at nature, change is something fundamental. Day and night; winter and spring; blooming and withering; time of abundance and time of drought. Change is so fundamentally embroidered in nature that it cannot be separated from the essence of natural processes.
And yet, in our lives, change is often seen as a threat to our existence. Change means something potentially life-threatening. That is why we instinctively tend to stay wherever is known and seemingly secure – even if we don’t really like it here.
Change was also that one time we woke up at 5 am and watched the sun rise above the hills, making its way through the morning mist. That morning, different from all the others, is the morning to remember. The one that will add value to our life.
Change was choosing to stay awake in the wilderness after everyone else had fallen asleep, until all the lamps and torches were turned off, and the night sky suddenly became a canvas painted with a million stars.
Change was choosing to sleep in a tent over sleeping in a hotel. Choosing a sleeping bag over a soft bed, which may have caused some pain in the back. But it meant choosing to wake up with the first soft sunrays, stepping out and breathing the cleanest air your lungs have felt in a long time. It meant walking the narrow paths next to the river instead of town alleys – maybe you still haven’t made your own paths, but you followed the earthen ones.
Change is speaking up and revealing yourself after a long time of conforming or pretending. I guarantee you will remember that moment – not only you but also all the other people that were around you at that moment. And even if your words don’t come across the same opinions from the others, that small change in your behaviour will start something new, in you, from within.
Change means something potentially dangerous. Perhaps we won’t like the new experience. Maybe we won’t be liked. Maybe we won’t be understood.
But can we live without change? No.
More importantly, can we live fully without change? Do we really want to live without it?
I know I don’t.
I want to walk the earthen paths, and maybe one day, make my own ones.