Change

I've often hated how people call for change.
True, sometimes it's a good thing
But how can anyone be comfortable with it?
Floating along a stream in your canoe,
Then plunging into whirlpools
And being tossed into rocks,
Then plummeting down a waterfall
So your boat snaps under the pressure.
Who would want that?
Why not have everything stay the same?
Comfortable and content and convenient,
And satisfying and serene and snug.
Why can't we just live in the moment, for God's sake?
I suppose change is nice when it causes improvement,
But what about when it strikes again?
And everything becomes a cesspool
Of broken dreams and failure.
Why not keep things the same?
Then we never have any expectations,
So they never fail to be met.

But, if everything stayed the same, life wouldn't be fun.
People wouldn't improve and learn from their mistakes.
They would make them over and over.
Never reduced, never ceased.
And what would happen to the thrill of a surprise.
We'd never again be able to have a collection of difference.
No sun and summer, no snow and winter.
No light and dark.
No colour.
Change is inevitable, and where is the fun, indeed,
When you're never taken out of your comfort zone?
Can you tell me you want everything constant?
People, even?
Plants would never grow.
People wouldn't either.
Can you truthfully say that you want to remain forever,
as a twelve-year-old brat?
I know people die and I know people leave,
But would children be born?
And would you ever have your own?
Change shapes us and makes us human.

So think about that when you complain about break-ups, or failing, or not standing out. Because change is what lets you meet someone, or rise up in ranks, or be known. It is freedom.