“True life is lived when tiny changes occur.” ―
. . .
. . .
This fall — surrounded by strokes of greens, oranges, yellows, and reds — I’ve been reminded by this spectrum of the season that change is certain, and that I, too, am ever evolving.
I’m not who I once was. I’m not who I’m going to be.
Each day, a part of me changes in some defining way. A hair on my head becomes silver or leaves me altogether. One percent of my collective cells gets replaced. I gain weight. My heart rate rises and falls — as does my temperature. I’m over a half inch shorter each night than I was that morning, thanks to gravity’s pull.
And my mind and spirit shift as well.
I no longer hold to some of the same beliefs from my childhood. My struggles are different. My strengths are too. Things that once never bothered me now keep me up at night. And the things I once feared now blend into the backdrop of everyday life.
I see people differently. I soak things up differently. I spend time differently.
. . .
Fall reminds me that I’m a different human than I used to be, and that’s exactly as it should be.