Here’s something strange that I didn’t anticipate after writing for a whole month about change. Now that change has restarted in our lives, I find myself oddly content.
Not stressed.
Not despairing.
Not depressed.
Just. Content.
I suppose I’m trusting that things will work out, as they always have, in a way that is satisfactory, as it always is (always in its own way).
For now, change somehow doesn’t feel like a scary monster in the closet (or under the bed).
Change simply is what it is.