Treehouses Don't Change

 Today, I read a few chapters of Harry Potter.

It felt familiar, like visiting an old friend who hasn’t changed, even though I have.

Later, I went on my favorite drive. The kind where the road knows you. Somewhere along the way, I saw a treehouse, quietly standing there, doing nothing extraordinary, and somehow that’s when it happened.

I realized something ethereal about life.

It is, in many ways, monotonous. The same roads. The same places. The same views. And yet the beauty is how differently we see them. How the very same places feel softer, heavier, brighter, or distant, depending on the stage of life we’re standing in and the emotions we carry with us that day.

Tere Bin by Rabbi Shergill played in the background.

At first, I loved it for the tune. Then for the way the words were written. And one day, the meaning arrived quietly and sat with me.

I already know this song is going to change its meaning for me again. Maybe years from now. Maybe in a version of me I haven’t met yet. And I can’t wait for that.

That’s the funny thing about stories, songs, and treehouses.

They stay exactly where they are.

We’re the ones who keep changing.

And somehow, that makes everything feel exciting again.

Also, I may or may not read another chapter before bed.