Time May Change Me, But I Can't Trace Time

A song I have come to appreciate over the last decade is a tune that was written when I was just a little boy. A song called Changes by David Bowie - then known by his stage alter ego, Ziggy Stardust. I recall seeing footage of Bowie/Stardust performing this tune when I was a teen and being more distracted by the crazy, space-age, androgynous outfit he was wearing than being at all interested in the song itself. But despite my disinterest in the song, I could not help but be somewhat touched by the musical arrangement. It was different. There was a fusion of some sort between old-school rock and jazz from what I could tell. Then there were the lyrics. Then? Aside from the chorus, paid NO attention to them. Who needed to know what he was saying when he was up there dressed like an alien? That was plenty! Me being the writer/poet that I am today, I Googled the lyrics after watching Bowie on YouTube doing Changes. I became interested in what he was saying in regards to that subject: Change. I read the lyrics and damn if I wasn't moved by them. Like really. It's a poem basically, as are most song lyrics in their embryonic state. I really dig the following verse:

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through

You can't tell me that ain't deep! I mean seriously!! What's got me examining this song and it's meaning to me is this. I used to be involved with an organization (I will refrain from revealing its identity) that uses a method involving peer counseling and attention as a means of healing from old hurts. It was introduced to me by an old friend. At the time I was going through some major grief due to the loss of my father. More or less, it was something new I was willing to try and I trusted my friend. As it turns out this is a practice that is done worldwide. For 11 years of my life, I was devoted to this practice and the people involved. As of a year and a half ago, I came face to face with some MAJOR issues in my private life. It was a wake-up call. I needed to make some changes or else face losing someone/something important in my life. I quit the organization and its practice. What began as a temporary hiatus turned into a permanent separation. With the exception of a few, the people whom I used to have contact with through the organization seemed to have ceased contact with me. A couple of days ago I bumped into someone whom I knew from that organization at my local co-op. It was very pleasant and sweet I must admit. She asked if I would be returning to the practice anytime soon. I said no. "It's no longer part of my life." I added. She seemed to understand. I emailed her a couple of days later mentioning how good it was to see her and how I have no regrets about moving on. She replied today with a lengthy, but very heartfelt and sweet response. In a way, it truly felt like that chapter was finished so another one could be written.

What does all this add up to? I quote Mr. Bowie again, "I watch the ripples change their size. But never leave the stream." How do I translate that? For me, it means that you cannot stop growth and no one, to my knowledge, said that growth does not hurt sometimes. However, I am still me at the core. Associations with people and organizations might challenge, modify, and in some cases, change the foundation of who you are. I would say on my own behalf that my core values have been challenged and modified to some extent through my association with various individuals and communities. Some of those relationships have ended now. But I learned some things from the experience as it happened. I'm still the same human being at the core regardless. And the lesson I learned? Even if people somehow forget who I am because the relationship changed, the main thing is that I don't forget who I am.

Time May Change Me
But I Can't Trace Time