An Ode to Change
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
These few lines sit at the very beginning of T.S. Elliot’s famous Four Quartets: a great work that I do not pretend to understand or appreciate to the level it deserves.
If it were not that a man who is considered to be a great writer wrote these words, my instincts would be to interpret this first stanza from Elliot as foolish, repetitive and unproductive ramblings. If time is relative and its significance constantly reconnects to itself, then time as a linear existence does not seem to make sense, or at least it is significant.
Today's events can be significant to me because of the way they relate to events that happened to me twenty years ago. That does not mean that this point in time is the same as the point in time twenty years ago, but it does mean that in a way, through my memory, my imagination, and the development of my soul, this moment in time is connected to a previous point in time twenty years ago.
This works the other way around, too. My experience twenty years ago can grow in significance because of an event today. An obvious example comes to mind: I met a young woman quite a few years ago in passing. That moment did not necessarily seem significant at the time to me or to anyone else. A couple of years after meeting her, I had coffee and a pastry by the river with her. This moment made our meeting seem more significant, but both moments still seemed insignificant in relation to my life as a whole. A couple of years after our coffee date, this woman since became my wife. The moment I met her and the moment we sat by the river eating a very unique pastry is now clearly more significant to me and to her and to everyone else. These moments themselves did not change, but I changed, my life changed, this woman changed and her life changed.
It is strange to look back at our first meeting without imposing the lens of future events. Part of me feels that I truly knew when I met her that I would never forget her, but I may be convinced that is the case only because when I think of our first meeting I cannot separate who this woman was from who she is now. Which is not wrong because she is not a different woman. She is my wife today, and in a way, she was my wife when I met her; we just did not know it yet.
We both changed. It feels as if this change was gradual, but it also feels as if this change happened instantaneously. This relationship I have to change is one that is not unfamiliar. I think we all can relate to the feeling that time seems to move both fast and slow at the same time. My inability to grasp the speed of change itself is further evidence that my own memories and understandings of change are not completely trustworthy.
In this way, I will transition to the statement that change is often beyond our control. In fact, I think I would argue that the default of human nature, or at least the default of my nature, is to remain the same. Change feels frustratingly unnatural. Habits rule the lives of those who do not pursue freedom from them. In order to change, one must look at what is and make a decision to confront it, or one must watch as what is changes around them. Change does not occur without intention. This intention can come either from the immortal soul of mortal man or from the Eternal One, who Himself is never changing but is always calling us to change, not into something less than ourselves, but into who we were made to be.
Change is either a participation in the Divine Goodness or in rebellion of Him. For the purpose of this train of thought, I would say that choosing wrong is not a true change at all. With the stain of original sin present in the human race, choosing the wrong is the default. Choosing the Right is a choice to truly change. Choosing the wrong over the Right, though some may indeed call it change, is so much more boring than choosing the Right. Is true change not so much more exciting?
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.