I am chatting to a writer buddy; and we're discussing love, life and relationships; toothpasty* kinda talk... nothing unique or unheard of, but forever enticing of reflection.
And so I said something and the advice was: 'Don't Change. Stay who you are.'
Aah. Words are strange things. Acknowledgment from friends means so much of course; but let's be totally honest: Change is inevitable. Sometimes fundamental things change, and other times its little nuances that may not show.
Life moves through us, and changes us... Just like a river moves by banks and towns, replenishing and feeding; bringing along with the tide, it's flood of enthusiasm and sometimes leaving destruction in it's wake.
I wonder, if we had to map out a canvas of these changes... what on earth would it look like?
Will it be filled with colour, streaks running down in the dance with gravity's pull? Or will it be adorned with something natural, wholesome and felt; textured by the seasons, tarnished by the rust and glowing with days of eternal sunshine? If I had to paint one for every person that I have met in my life, I imagine filling hallways with amazing design; some gregarious and dark, other's awash with soulful inspirations. Wind chimes would signal laughter and drumbeats for passion, love and sadness; fear, malice and anger would flow as the bark used on railway sleepers, and joy would appear as mirrors reflecting the eyes of all who hold them close.
Joy is as it does. In all of us. A whole new world exists, just by thinking about making something that reminds me of everyone I have encountered on my path; everyone who has made an undeniable impact on being who I am. On the evolution of who I am at this moment. Evolutionary relationships are the basis of all we do, and all that makes us; A blog I enjoy reading by Azra also discusses this most beautifully in a recent post.
It's inevitable that some will be immortalised in the words I write; while other's will find their way into the light through the colours that my eye picks out. A river runs through me; every day I am replenished, destroyed, and filled to overflowing again. Words are strange things indeed.
So. What will your change canvas look like?
*word and concept, courtesy lady h as added to discussion about my toothpaste theory; and her toothpasty chats with the Guy.
Local Council By-Elections April 2017
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