This too shall pass

As a sojourner, I've learned that everything, both the good and the difficult, eventually passes.

But let me offer a competing story, just as true in its own way. Once, on a journey through a bustling port city, I met another sojourner named Eli. Unlike me, Eli avoided change whenever possible. He clung to routine, held close to familiar faces, and rarely strayed from the map. While I ran toward uncertainty, he built walls against it. One evening, as a storm rolled in and travelers gathered for warmth, Eli shared his story.

He told us about the time he was forced to leave his home, not by choice, but by necessity. The unknown terrified him. Each step in that new land was agony—he missed his language, his food, the way the air smelled at dawn. He grieved what he lost, and for months, he fought against the new rhythms around him. He withdrew, bitter and lonely, unable to see any joy in the change.

But then, little by little, something shifted. A neighbor offered a meal. He learned a new word. The market vendor remembered his name. The world he feared began to soften, and the unfamiliar became a little less daunting. It wasn’t adventure or curiosity that led Eli to adapt, but necessity and kindness.

Just as I had learned in my own wandering, Eli discovered that the overwhelming newness and pain eventually grew into something tolerable—sometimes even beautiful—if you gave it time.

Both our stories teach the same lesson: whether you embrace the unknown with open arms or resist it with all your might, the storm passes. Sometimes you grow through adventure, sometimes through sheer survival. Either way, you emerge changed—often wiser, sometimes still aching, but always moving forward.

Throughout my journeys—moving from place to place, embracing the uncertainty of the unknown—I rarely traveled toward familiarity. Each step was into uncharted territory, and the experiences above became my constant companions.

I found, that's where the joy resides: in discovering new ideas, embracing unfamiliar cultures, learning different habits, and collecting unique experiences along the way. I suppose I love, and perhaps even crave, change. I get bored easily. There are many who fear change and take solitude in the predictable (at least as far as they think they control it).

Astonishingly, within a month or so, what once felt foreign becomes familiar, and the new world settles into a comfortable rhythm.

Whether facing an unexpected hardship, a tragedy, or simply experiencing something new, I've seen it all pass. Eventually, it becomes tolerable, and life continues its journey.

So, whether you run toward the new or cling to the old, know this: discomfort—and even pain—often comes before growth. I am still learning, and so was Eli. For now, I find comfort in where I am and what I am doing, until the next chapter begins. Who knows when or where that takes me.....

It's all good.

Pura Vida.