Change

So I know I haven't posted anything in awhile, but I'm hoping to get back into it-- whether it be as a photo blog, or a single mommy blog, or something. Just gotta find the time. In the meantime, I wanted to post this, because I think we could all stand to hear it. It's my new mantra.

Like so many people, I was excited to catch the season premiere of Grey's Anatomy last week. Without going into detail, I kind of hated the episode. It was weird and detached and wrapped things up in nonsensical little packages, and I just sort of generally hated how they went about it. Meredith's character is growing more and more annoying, and more and more undeserving of Patrick Dempsey, but I digress. The only redeeming thing about her lately, was her monologue:

Every cell in the human body regenerates, on average, every seven years. Like snakes, in our own way, we shed our skin. Biologically, we're brand-new people. We may look the same. We probably do. The change isn't visible, at least, not in most of us, but we're all changed, completely, forever.

When we say things, like, "People don't change," it drives scientists crazy, because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's always changing. Morphing. Merging. Growing. Dying. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural. The way we cling to what things were, instead of letting them be what they are. The way we cling to old memories, instead of forming new ones. The way we insist on believing, despite every scientific indication, that anything in this lifetime is permanent.

Change is constant. How we experience change, that's up to us. It can feel like death. Or, it can feel like a second chance at life. If we open our fingers, loosen our grips, go with it, it can feel like pure adrenaline. Like, at any moment, we can have another chance at life. Like, at any moment, we can be born all over again.