Seeing More of It

I frequently remind myself that “everything changes”. It seems to be my current mantra. Often when I remember how things used to be, I am struck by how the world has shifted. Back in the days of college and young adulthood and even into my 40’s and 50’s, I knew, intellectually, that change was inevitable. But I don’t think I knew it in my bones. I didn’t truly believe it. Most of the time, I assumed that life would go on unfolding just as it had been, interrupted only by the life changing milestones - a death, a birth, a move, a new beginning.

Now I see something different. Change isn’t something that arrives every so often, here and there. Change is actually constant, not unlike the weather - with its wavering temperatures, varied precipitation, and a dynamic sky This new perspective has become strangely comforting to me. It means that when the days are challenging, when I am struggling with health or other issues, I can assure myself that, yup, this will change. Just wait. In the same way, when life hands me glorious moments - neighborhood beauty, four year old giggles, an evocative piece of music - then I am more apt to pause and take it all in, knowing that this very moment won’t last. I breathe in and savor the goodness while it is present because it too will fade. Instead of letting remarkable moments drift away unappreciated, my awareness of impermanence makes me pay closer attention.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting older but lately I have been stunned by the sheer scale of change. I see change everywhere. It’s not limited to those milestone events mentioned above. No, it feels as if it underscores everything in life now. I know that everything is in motion all the time. My emotions shift. My body changes. My relationships unfold. The scenery on neighborhood walks varies from morning to morning. My plans, my memories, even the stories I tell myself about my past are continually being revised. Here I am in the circus of life, trying to juggle dozens of balls, and wanting to pay attention to all of them. There is a kind of chaos to it, but there is also something surprisingly graceful—smooth, fluid, and entirely natural. Is it unsettling? Of course. I never know what the next change will be. None of us do.

Here’s the interesting thing. Yes, there is all that change going on around us yet much of life reveals itself in familiar rhythms. The four year old arrives when I expect her. My brother sends his morning email. My sister calls on Sundays. I make my weekly trip to the grocery store. These small dependable patterns create the illusion of constancy even as everything continues to move beneath them. The surprise comes when the pattern breaks - either momentarily or for good - and my assumptions about permanence shatter in front of me. Those are the times when I am reminded about how little certainty I ever had.

Change has always been a part of my life. What’s different now is my awareness of change. When I was younger, life seemed to have distinct chapters, most of which added something to my story. There were the years when I went to school, my early work days, a few years where I stayed home with small children, more work days in a different setting - chunks of time that passed with familiarity and routine. My family was there through all of it.

Looking back, those years feel very secure, very stable. But maybe that’s only because I wasn’t paying attention to the small shifts that were happening. They seemed too small to notice. My body was changing, my friendships were changing, my family was changing. Even my memories were changing—they grew softer, less detailed, colored by time in ways I couldn’t have imagined. And perhaps most of all, my understanding of myself was changing. It’s as though I have a broader picture. I’m not experiencing more change than I did when I was thirty. I’m simply seeing more of it. The day to day reality didn’t change. My way of seeing it did.

All of that makes me wonder if I’ve been chasing the wrong kind of wisdom. I tell myself that I need to learn to accept the things I cannot change. It’s good advice, as far as it goes. But maybe acceptance isn’t the deepest lesson. Acceptance still assumes that permanence is the natural state of things and that change is the unwelcome interruption. What if it’s the other way around? What if change is the norm? Maybe what we think of as permanence is simply a reflection of the ever present patterns within a framework of change around us. People walk their dogs every morning. Children show up for school daily. Friends go to coffee every week. The rhythm remains even as the days unfold differently. Maybe permanence is just a story we tell ourselves because it makes the world feel safer and more predictable than it really is.

So what do I do with all this newfound wisdom? Sometimes my heart races with the uncertainty of this world. I can’t count on anything to just be here.

Promise me, dear world, that you will stay just as you are. Promise me that the people I love will always be here. Promise me that I will always be here to take care of them. Promise me that tomorrow will resemble today in all the important ways.

But there are no such promises. What there is, instead, is this moment. Tiny purple flowers. Deep blue oceans. A four year old’s giggles. None of it will be here forever. They deserve my full attention.

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I discovered this poem when I was in high school. It is achingly true. I have carried it around my entire life, trying to remember its wisdom.