Changes come and go. And depending on the type of change, they are sometimes here to stay.
I was talking to a cab driver the other day. Super cool and super chill. Now, I haven't taken a cab in awhile, but last Friday, Bieber had a concert and there were zero buses on route to my residence. So cab it was.
Driving down Flatbush Ave. the driver begins to speak. "I use to live there". He turns to his right and points up to an apartment building as we wait for the light to turn green. I look up. "oh" I say. And from there, we discuss the many changes down Flatbush Avenue. There were a lot of changes. From video stores to supermarkets, and from open spaces to apartment buildings. I was taken aback.
The driver continued to tell me some of his great, and not-so-great, memories of Brooklyn. Mysteries of stolen carpets, chandelier thieves never found and the time when everyone's apartment door was hinged open, only to find residences shoes taken. Reader...when I tell you these stories were fascinating, just imagine a little kid, eyes wide-open, tucked in bed, flashlight on, with a book too good to be put down. Yes, that was me.
It brought me to think of the many memories I hold and the journals I printed them in from middle school to today. The good, bad, worse, amazing and uplifting memories...I still have them. They are mine. Change joins these memories when they occur and remind me of how far I am blessed to keep going. It helps to pin point my where, when, how and at times the why.
It's a good and bad habit to have, but when you reflect on how far you've come and the changes you needed to go through to get to were you are, you become appreciative and grateful. Or sometimes, the thought can put you to worry, depending on perspective. Either way, it holds value. The memories we hold and the number of changes we go through can either, one, build you up or, two, tear you down. Pay no mind to the second effect. Choose the first and grow.