Things that change:
The length and color of my hair. Every single era of my life is marked by a change on top of my head. This fact is not unknown. In fact, it’s kind of a running joke: Halie cut her hair…again.
My musical preference. Every winter I need some folk music to rejuvenate my soul. Country and hip-hop during the hotter months. Fall is a time for mellow pop. And so on and so forth.
The type of jeans I like to wear. When I was in middle school, you had to have boot cut jeans that covered your Birkenstock slide-ons “just so.” High school was the era of skinny jeans with holes. Now? Well…still tight. No holes, though.
My opinions on various religious ideology. The more I read and listen and speak, the more I’m discovering about this religion that I never even feel like I got to choose. The more I contemplate and challenge, the more I grow.
The number of times I find myself realizing I’m turning into my mother. In case anyone was curious, the older I get, the MORE these events occur. Today: I looked at my sister, panicked that she didn’t like the cake I made. I said the same thing my mom says…
Things that don’t change:
The way the springtime always has a way of surprising me. The green leaves that are one-day-gone, and the next-day-here. The woods behind my house that get denser with every clock-tick.
The way the fall always has a way of surprising me. The green leaves that aren’t so green. Golds and hues of deep oranges and reds that make the world look like it’s on fire. My soul feels hotter, even as the world gets colder.
The way my family is annoyingly aware of every decision I am making. They are amazingly still supportive nevertheless. They still are slightly over-dramatic at times, but I literally wouldn’t trade them for anything.
The way my eyes still seemingly leak at the realization that change is an inevitable occurrence. The more you dread something, the faster it approaches. My eyes leak a lot these days.
The way I always feel conflicted. To stay or leave? To love or hate? To speak or listen? To stand or fall? To cry or laugh?
Is “both” an acceptable answer?
It’s going to have to be, because the other thing that never changes is my stubborn desire to stay rooted in my need to uproot.
Halie
haliewanders 