Much is said about change—its inevitability, its power to engender fear...and transformation. I believe that if we don't create change, change will create us. When it comes at you, you can either wrestle it like a big slippery alligator, or just do your best to ride the wave. Nine years ago, when my husband died of cancer and I was trudging through the Slough of Despond in Los Angeles, change felt like the slow flaying of my skin. Three years ago, when I left my familiar life in New York City for the wilds of Sullivan County, change was like an enormous infusion of oxygen and optimism. Life is change, and that's never more apparent than when you live close to nature and really experience the cycle of birth and death that is constantly on display. Even the simple blossoming and wilting of a flower in a single day is a reminder. Life is short, my friends, and we must not waste a moment clinging to what we have already lost. The perfection and freshness of youth is one thing, the patina and widsom of age quite another. But they are two sides of the same coin, and of equal value.
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