“Change is what makes life beautiful,” informed the Teacher. “In a simple way, it is the being that harnesses Life from action and thought. If things were to always go on as expected, we would not think about changes because they’d be so usual. Indeed, they would not be regarded as such, they’d be cycles—unvarying cycles that would bore time in such a way so as to inspire its suicide. Would thought have emerged had there not been such a thing to be pondered? If Man had been born with the knowledge of fire and had not discovered it, would there have been excitement and awe and exploration?”
“But what of the cycles that do exist?” asked the Student.
“Those still possess variances. They don’t occur always at the same time, nor are they confined to rigorousness. They are free and ambiguous many times. They are attune with life and its changes and are bound to its particularities. As are we all.”
“But is this all there is to say…?” pondered the Student reclusively.
“Have you any further thoughts, then?” inquired the Teacher. “It would be well if I’d hear them. Come, tell me.”
“I believe it is contrast, not change, which makes life beautiful,” replied the Student.
“How so?” prodded the Teacher.
“Because it is only upon seeing how different things are that one can appreciate the complexity of the elements. This appreciation stems from a knowledge that one is part of this web of differences and constructions. It is an acceptance and moreover an embracement. It is similar to change, but not exactly. Change can bring about contrast, change can be contrast, but it can only be action. Contrast can already be settled in the canvas, it does not have to be necessarily induced,” the Student said proudly, later adding: “Do my words please you?”
Silence defines the countenance of the scene. Darkness, rather—light is silent in its wait. A most distressing gait is employed by time, dragging on in unmindful fashion. It is not what is to be done.
“Change is action and contrast is property. It is a true enough definition.”