Learning How to Change
Change is the most natural thing about being human—yet somehow it’s the thing we resist the most. Our bodies are constantly in motion: cells dying, tissues renewing, breath coming and going. Our emotions shift like weather. Our thoughts evolve with every experience. Change isn’t something we do. It’s something we are.
But we live in a world that worships certainty. A world that asks us to be predictable, consistent, polished, and sure. From a young age, we’re taught to chase answers, seek stability, and fix our identities like pins on a map:
Who are you? What do you believe? What’s your plan? What’s next?
Certainty becomes a shield—and a prison.
It protects us from the unknown, but it also cuts us off from the parts of ourselves that are meant to grow.
The Illusion of Certainty
Certainty promises safety. If we know what’s coming, we won’t be hurt. If we commit to a single identity, we won’t be misunderstood. If we avoid the unexpected, we won’t be disappointed.
But this mindset comes with a cost:
We slowly separate ourselves from our own nature.
We stop listening to our bodies, which are always in flux.
We ignore our intuition, which speaks in possibility, not absolutes.
We limit ourselves to who we think we should be, instead of who we’re becoming.
Living for certainty creates a subtle rigidity—a tightening in the psyche and the muscles. It’s the feeling of holding your breath without noticing. It’s the chronic tension of trying to keep life from moving.
Why Change Feels Hard
Change doesn’t hurt.
The friction between who we’ve been and who we’re becoming does.
We think change is difficult because we misunderstand it.
We approach it like a problem to solve, a task to complete, a barrier to overcome.
But change can’t be forced. It can only be allowed.
When we try to “solve” for certainty, we end up clinging to old patterns, outdated identities, and beliefs that don’t fit anymore. We hold on because we’re afraid of what we don’t yet understand.
But the part of us that’s afraid isn’t wrong—it just needs reassurance.
The truth is:
We’re not meant to be the same person year after year.
Stability doesn’t come from certainty.
It comes from being in relationship with ourselves as we evolve.
Returning to Our True Nature
Learning how to change is less about doing and more about remembering.
Remembering that:
We have seasons, just like nature.
We don’t bloom every month.
Shedding is as important as growing.
Stillness is as essential as movement.
Becoming is a lifelong process.
When we let go of the compulsion to be certain, we can finally hear the quieter truths beneath the noise—our intuition, our body’s cues, our deeper desires.
Change becomes less terrifying when we stop treating it as a threat and start recognizing it as our own rhythm.
How to Learn to Change
Not through force.
Not through pressure.
Not through perfectionism.
But through practice:
1. Listening instead of controlling
Pay attention to your body, your emotions, your discomfort. All of it is information.
2. Choosing curiosity over certainty
Ask: What is this trying to show me? rather than How do I make this go away?
3. Allowing cycles instead of demanding consistency
Growth doesn’t move in straight lines.
4. Letting identity be fluid
You’re allowed to outgrow ideas, relationships, versions of yourself.
5. Trusting the unknown
The unknown is not empty—it’s full of everything you haven’t discovered yet.
Becoming Who We Really Are
Change isn’t the disruption.
Change is the return.
The return to a self that is dynamic, alive, responsive, and honest.
A self that doesn’t need to cling to certainty to feel safe.
A self that trusts the natural intelligence within.
The world may reward certainty, but life itself rewards adaptability.
And the more we practice allowing change, the more we step into our truest form—one that is fluid, curious, resilient, and deeply connected to who we really are.
Because learning how to change is really learning how to remember:
We were never meant to stay the same.