Each day a new scene
unfolds outside my window.
Inside, a new me.
My window frames a painting that changes every day. Sometimes the difference from one day to the next is subtle, especially the trees in winter. The only thing different might be one less straggler leaf on a branch, or the presence of a cardinal. There may be a different car in a spot where another was yesterday, or an empty space, The pattern of snow on the rooftops may vary ever so slightly.
Whatever the difference, whether subtle or glaring the picture changes every day. The scene does not remain static. Gradually the trees transform through the season, the snowfall varies, the icicles melt and grow, different people come and go.
So it is with us. I am not the same person upon awakening as was the me that went to bed. The difference here is practically undetectable but we did not acquire the body and mind we have today without the gradual change we call growing or ageing. We will keep on changing, that is not negotiable. What is in our control is how we see that change.