February 9, 2009
Continuity and change
One freelance assignment down, one to go.
Last week was interesting. One day was archetypally springlike, all sunwarmth and wrensong and the smell of damp earth in thaw; the next was the perfect kind of snowfall, the air thick with flakes and all the trees delicately highlighted but the roads completely clear. The day after that, brilliant clear skies above a world shrouded in the softest white, and following upon that clearing a sudden, stealthy freeze, so that getting home from my weekly gaming night turned out to be an adventure in itself.
It was good to be reminded that change can be so sudden, and that sudden change can be a source of wonder and beauty as well as threat. I have a tendency to belabor change, to blow up even the smallest shift into a major production — but in the end, who knows what the future holds? Maybe tomorrow my current circumstances will change, or I’ll change, and all the internal arguments and obstacles, no longer relevant, will slide away like sand, will melt like the snow that’s already disappeared. What will I put in their place? Because change is, always and inevitably, and yet the world goes on, and life in it goes on, and I go on and you do too — world and life and self all different day to day and yet part of a thread of being, an enduring whole.
Zep Tepi — a new day, and the world is made anew, in sun or snowfall, in stillness or song.