Change

Change is nothing for a baby. It is changing so quickly that this is the norm. Within less than two years a baby learns a new language, a new way of moving about, and all the things these embody in a world that is continually expanding.

By age three change has already become traumatic for some children. They do not like moving from one place to another (i.e.home to school, study room to playroom, inside to outside or the reverse.)

Others are still fine until around eight when reason begins to nibble at their freedom and tell them there are safe changes and not so safe ones and knowing the difference makes a big difference.

Teenagers who have grown up relatively safe and secure embrace change. They are ready to try on adult personas of all sorts.

Adults become more complicated because they know their changes affect other people: spouses, children, parents, even possibly public groups.

By my age change is very threatening for some people. It can feel like a way of invalidating everything they know and believe and that negates their whole world, everything they have built their life around at a time in life when the past feels more important than the future.

My life, though, has been one change after another since before I can remember. For me change is not always comfortable depending on what kind of change it is. Metamorphosis can be stressful, but it is generally more than worth the effort. That is where the excitement comes in. Change can be both symbolic and real. The unknown after effects can be almost magical, producing incredible soul satisfying comfort.

To be able to continue to grow means that life is still green and verdant, full of power and promise and that is living in the fullest sense.