As human beings, there is something in us that compels us to change and grow. A toddler, determined to walk, will try again and again to stand and balance until he takes his first steps. What is it that propels us to tenaciously climb and grow and explore new horizons? Clearly there is something built into our essence that wants to become more.

Yet there is also a counter force that urges us to cling to the way things are. We become content, maybe even complacent, with our habits and patterns of living. It’s comforting to shop at our usual store, enjoyable to buy our customary food, and pleasing to associate with our regular company. Or is it simply the fear of change that keeps us in stasis?

Social expectations add to the yen to stay as we are. Our friends and families, institutions, and organizations have become accustomed to our being a certain way. Change alters their balance, and everyone has to readjust. Our change is hard on others.

Regardless of the outside pressures, all too often our own inner voice prompts us to make a change — in a previously held idea or opinion, a relaxing of rigidity of thought, a shake-up of habits that no longer serve, even a simple change of scenery or new kitchen curtains. Regardless of the stimulus, change happens. As the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus stated, “There is nothing permanent except change; change alone is unchanging.”

I was chatting with friends while making beaded necklaces. One of our group had just retired, and we were all congratulating her. While certainly enjoying her new found free time, she was struggling with other feelings not uncommon in the recently retired. She was concerned about her reasons for retiring. Was she no longer competent? Was she simply past her prime and she knew it? What did her colleagues think of her decision? Each one of us at the table that afternoon had our own concerns and worries regarding the shifts and changes in our lives.

As the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus stated, “There is nothing permanent except change; change alone is unchanging.”

We were surprised to realize that we are all embarrassed by this state of flux we were in, feeling that by being “in process” we are admitting that we don’t have it all figured out. At our age, shouldn’t we be confident and secure? Instead, we were chagrined at our confusion and our vulnerability, and of the ripple effect our changes were having on the people in our lives. Change is scary; we don’t always know how it’s going to work out. What if, in the process of changing, we find ourselves less than, lacking, not as good as we’re “supposed” to be?

Even as we undergo the struggle, we can also embrace the adventure of the transformative process. What new insights or new understandings might I gain? What can I notice along the way to increasing awareness? Am I becoming a kinder, more compassionate person? Am I more willing to share a laugh or applaud others? What hidden strengths can I tap?

Even as we undergo the struggle, we can also embrace the adventure of the transformative process.

This process of transformation is charmingly depicted in a story called Two Old Women. During a particularly fierce winter, two old women were abandoned by their tribe — left to die — because they used up too much of the scarce resources.

Until that winter, the women had gotten a bit complacent, even lazy, embracing their aches and pains rather than their abilities and allowing others to do for them more than they really needed. Still, they certainly did not feel that their lives were ready to be over.

This outside stimulus of being abandoned to die roused in them an inner defiance; they were not ready to accept this fate and found in themselves tremendous strength, know-how, and a will to live. They not only lived, they thrived.

Ironically, their former tribe did not fare as well. A year later they reconnected, and it was the two women who helped the tribe with food and warm clothing. They earned a new respect from their tribe and gained a fresh sense of capability and value for themselves.

When faced with our own inevitable challenges, we can take courage from the two old women and find within us the strength to transform, whether we are confronted by an outside stimulus or our own inner voice demanding we soldier on and become more.