Embracing Change

I wrote this poem in a quiet moment—not at the edge of a cliff, but at the edge of an inner shift.

It was one of those days when I could feel the tension between who I was and who I’m becoming. Between the man who skied mountains without hesitation and the one who now measures each step.

This isn’t just about aging. It’s about acceptance without surrender, and the kind of strength that lives in choosing to keep showing up—even if the pace, the path, and the shape of the journey have changed.

Embracing Change

As I sit with time’s quiet toll,

I feel its pull on heart and soul.

Life around me hums so bright,

Yet inside is a quieter fight.

It’s not the restlessness of youth,

But the grappling with a harder truth—

The man I was, so bold and free,

Now, meets the man I’ve come to be.

Once, I sought the highest peaks,

The thrill of risk, the wild’s mystique.

Skiing steep slopes from side to side,

Believing strength was mine to ride.

But now, each creak, each aching bend,

Reminds me that those days must end.

No longer quick to leap or run,

I weigh my limits one by one.

It’s easy to mourn the loss of might,

To miss the man who climbed with light.

But here’s the truth I’ve come to see:

Life’s not the same, but it’s still free.

For strength, I’ve learned, is more than bone,

It’s found in what we call our own—

The will to rise, the heart to stay,

To greet the dawn of each new day.

My body now is marked with change,

But through these shifts, I’ve rearranged

What once I thought was fi xed, unbent—

My identity in constant ascent.

The thrill of life’s no longer fast,

But found in moments meant to last—

A sunset’s glow, a simple walk,

A cherished friend with whom to talk.

The me of youth still holds my hand,

But now I understand the land

Of limits, of slowing pace,

Of finding joy in a gentler race.

Strength is not just found in might,

But in the soul’s enduring fight.

To adapt, accept, and persevere,

Even when the path’s unclear.

I’ve seen the world from mountaintops,

But now I pause before I hop.

I used to scoff at slower ways,

But now I honor measured days.

For life’s not bound by miles or speed—

But by the depth of what we heed.

Each new phase, though diff erent still,

Is part of the journey, part of the thrill.

And so I stand, on changing ground,

With lessons learned, with wisdom found.

My battles now are not with height,

But with accepting where I fi ght.

I’ll seek the Arctic’s polar light,

Or Rockies’ towering, snow-capped might.

And if I can’t climb to the top,

I’ll find a chairlift, take the drop.

No obstacle will bar my way,

For where there’s will, I’ll find a way.

The view is worth this different path,

The journey holds its quiet wrath.

But in the stillness, a strength I find,

In this evolving state of mind.

For life’s adventure isn’t speed,

But in the moments that we feed.

And so I’ll go, in steps or slow,

Embracing each new place I grow.

For I am more than skin and bone—

My spirit’s strength is all my own.

This journey’s changed, but still it’s mine—

I’ll seek, I’ll thrive, in all I find.

For, in the end, it’s not how fast,

But how we live and make it last.

—Thom Barrett

Reflection:

This poem isn’t just a confession. It’s a declaration.

I spent decades equating strength with action, motion, elevation. But now I’m learning to find it in stillness, in restraint, in saying this is enough for today—and meaning it.

The most radical part of this shift? I’ve stopped mourning who I was and started honoring who I am.

I still seek adventure. I still want the view. But I no longer measure the worth of the journey by how fast I go or how high I climb. I measure it by how deeply I feel, how open I remain, and how present I can be—even when it hurts.

This is what it means—for me—to embrace change.

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