Standing Amongst a Grove of Giants

Some people say that

Change is hard

But is it really?

These people usually

Think of themselves as

Sponges

Absorbing and rejecting

Ideas on a

Subconscious level

But

Remaining relatively

Unchanged by

The way they live

By their thoughts

By their hopes

By their own suppressed wishes

And to change

Would mean

Changing the entirety

Of what makes you

You.

When in reality

We are like a grove

Trees in a hurricane.

The wind moves

Our leaves and branches

In ways they've

Never danced before

The winds can

Turn them toward the sun

Turn them away

It can send them

Up

Down

Or

Around and

Around and

Around and

Around in

Endless circles

Of thought

Sometimes

If the winds are

Strong enough

An idea is shaken

At the foundation

And ripped up

Roots

Trunk

Branches

Leaves

And all

You find yourself

Wondering if

That idea was even

Worth the effort

Put into it

Because

You feel fine

Without it

The point is

No matter if you

Go back

To believing what you did before

You still moved

And those trees will

Never

Be exactly the same

Again

Every thought you have

Changes your grove

Microscopically

Until

You look around

And find those

Ideas you have

Cultivated

For so long

Grew into a forest of

Unshakably

Strong

Giants

With roots

Too deep to

Ever

Be moved

And you spread

The seeds

Every time you

Open your mouth

And

Speak out

Planting those ideas

In another's head

Whether it be

In the deepest

Recesses of their mind

Or the forefront

Of their thoughts

It will grow

And change

And maybe it will be

Ripped up by the roots

And discarded

But it is still there

It always will be

But don't take my word for it

Look around you

You'll realize that

You've been

Standing in

A grove of

Growing,

Twisting,

Changing,

Giants

All along.