I am constantly growing.
It's a thought that seems pretty logical on the surface, but one that is packed with meaning.
In a world where natural disasters seem to strike every day, where innocent people lose their lives, where terror is the new sick fad-- I lose myself in what I see and experience, and this fundamental fact gets swept under the rug, present but forgotten.
We are constantly growing.
It's about so much more than biology. Our thoughts, our outlook, our actions, our response, our emotions-- these things are never stable, it seems. On one day, I could be on cloud nine. I had an intriguing conversation. I gave a loved one a hug. I listened to a song that just got me. I finished the last chapter of a really good book. I laughed until I cried.
But on another day, it could be completely gray outside. I fought yet another silent battle. I failed at something. I lost someone.
As I sit in my room writing this, it's sunny outside, but nobody would've guessed how dreary it was just a few minutes ago. Even Mother Nature changes. The brilliant yellow sunflower shoots through its once meager seed. The sycamore rises defiantly against the storm. The clouds float on, determined to grace more of the world with their billowy shadows.
I continue to grow.