ch-ch-ch-changes

A picture because I don't post many, and maybe you get sick of my words all the time.
 Plus, we're a good-lookin' bunch.

I met up with some friends from freshman year this afternoon. The length of time it's been since I've seen each of them ranges from a few days to over two years. And the "few days" end of the spectrum isn't as significant as it seems, seeing as that encounter was our first since bidding farewell after our freshman year. 

It's impossible for a person as nostalgic and prone to reminiscing as I am to have these kinds of reunions without spending a great deal of time before and after ruminating over both how much has changed since we all met as college newbies and how strange it is that part of me feels like life hasn't changed at all since our year spent in the dorms. 

Here I am two years later still a single student living in Provo. When I have to categorize myself like that, it really sounds as if absolutely nothing is different. 

But it is. Everything is different. I'm different. 

In the just over two years since freshman year ended, two of the people I met up with today have gone on missions and returned. One has gotten married and transferred to a different university. And the last has also transferred to a different university to pursue her life's passion. When you look at it like that, it really doesn't seem like anything has changed for me. I didn't go on a mission, I'm not married, and I'm still at the same school pursing the same degree with the same career goal in mind come graduation. 

I think that we tend to mark life changes only by the grand events that dramatically alter the course of our lives. We think that the only changes that are "real" are the ones that require a public announcement or a party to celebrate or a change of address. And it's true that those big life changes have a significant effect on your future. They are often the superlatives of life events—the biggest, the most exciting, the scariest, the most important. 

But what I think we fail to notice as often are the small changes that happen gradually over time. The little habits we pick up or shun. The people who help you see the world differently. The small experiences that change how you see yourself. We don't often notice these changes as easily, because they're not dramatic and don't call attention to themselves. They're the kind of changes you hardly even notice until days like these happen and all of a sudden you realize you're not the same person you were two years ago. 

The categories I fit into two years ago still apply for the most part. But those things—my marital status, my physical location, my occupation—aren't who I am. If I wanted somebody to know who I truly am at the deepest level, I wouldn't tell them that I live in Provo. That tells them little more than my address. And I am not my address. 

So it's true. Things have changed. I have changed. Chatting with one of my dear friends today, I mistakenly said, "I'm still the same person." 

"No," she was quick to assure me, "you're not."

And she's right. I'm not the same person. And there are parts of me I like better now after two years of learning and life experience under my belt since we all first met. But there are also parts of me that have morphed in ways that I'm not comfortable with and that I don't want to be permanent. And I think that's okay, because isn't life all about shaping and molding yourself into your best version? Sometimes you have to let the bad and the ugly manifest themselves so that you can learn how to best deal with them and turn them into something worthwhile. 

And I think it's time I embrace the fact that small changes happen while I'm waiting for my personal superlative life changes. 

Because, after all, every day happens a whole lot more often than superlatives do.