If change is the only absolute reality and universe is in constant change how can you afford to stay put? How can you challenge the universe which brought you into existence, the universe which in fact is you on a majestic scale?
If change is the only absolute reality, and the universe is in constant motion — reshaping galaxies, carving mountains, erasing coastlines, and weaving new stars — how can you afford to stay put?
Every atom in your body has been borrowed from ancient stars. The calcium in your bones once lived in the heart of a dying sun. The iron in your blood was forged in cosmic furnaces billions of years before your first breath. And all of it is still moving, still exchanging, still evolving — whether you will it or not.
To resist change is to resist the very rhythm that brought you into being. It is to challenge the universe itself — the same universe which, in a majestic irony, is you, expanded across time and space.
We like to imagine permanence — in our homes, our beliefs, our daily routines — yet permanence is an illusion carved by habit. Mountains crumble. Languages vanish. Empires rise and fall. Even the stars in the sky above you are not where they were last night; their light takes years, centuries, millennia to reach you.
If the universe is a river, you are not the shore — you are part of the current. You may slow your pace, you may cling to a rock, but the water still moves. Eventually, you too must move with it.
So perhaps the real wisdom is not in resisting change, but in learning to dance with it. Not as a reluctant passenger on a cosmic conveyor belt, but as an active navigator — adjusting your sails to the winds of entropy, knowing that to live is to flow.
Because the truth is simple and eternal:
The only never-changing reality is the change itself.