Change, and no not the coin variety, though this may come up later, but change. The small incremental changes of self awareness, and the massive upheaval changes of life altering decisions. The smallest change can bring enormous fallout, the change of perspective, a new vista of sight. We all of us adapt differently to change, some deny that change has occurred, some embrace it and depending on circumstance we all alter our adaptation to those circumstances. One thing is certain, however change, much like shit, happens.

Walking tonight, I was struck by the change of season, typically in this part of the world, winter fades and spring arrives smoothly, a transition of cycles. But this year one is struck by how ferociously winter hangs on. It strikes me as a dogged determination to not give way....There is a struggle going on, and winter seems to be prevailing. The seasons or perhaps just winter is opposing change, valiantly, and unpopularly, but winter seems to be unwilling to give way to the change that we all know must come.

Change is a struggle that we all wrestle with, be it the coming adulthood of our children, the beginnning or ending of relationships, the changes in employment, the change of residence, or just the inexorable passing of time. We struggle to adjust, we struggle to adapt, and in large measure we struggle to avoid. But just like with Old Man Winter, we will face a losing battle. Better to accede to the new truth, better to willingly accept the new reality, is it not?

If resistance is futile, than is offering resistance absurd? Can we hope to stop the coming changes? Yet do we not all hear ourselves say, ah this is better, if only it could stay like this?
If only this level of contentment would stick around, then I'd be happy. But there is always a new dynamic, around the corner to challenge our resolve to be happy....a new set of friends, a new set of circumstances and a new set of worries to combat our contentment.

I am old, and resistant to change, and though I have undergone much change am still very much like winter, fighting against the changes to come. For me the seasons and the flavours of the world pass, but not without remorse, nor struggle.