It is never the same and always the same.
So weird to think about yet so true.
In high school, I would step onto the court in a basketball game always wearing the same jersey. Same teammates. Same coach. Same plays. Same game. With the same purpose in mind every time: to win. Yet what took place in all those games I played was never the same. Each game was actually very unique. Different events within the game always occurred. Different amount of points scored. Different amount of fouls. Different scores. Different cat fights between different girls (a reason I sometimes struggled with girls' basketball).
Same with volleyball. Same with track. I got into the blocks the same way as always for the same race, with the same thoughts in mind. Although, every race was different.
Or the movie Grease, for instance. I remember watching that movie when I was little, like eight maybe. I remember my mom worrying about me watching it. I had no idea why. I didn't think there was anything bad about it. Of course she skipped over the little make-out scene, but still. I loved the music and the dancing. I thought it was great. Years later, I watch Grease once again as a high school student. At an older age, I picked up on all the little jokes that my naive eight year old brain didn't seem to acknowledge. It is the exact same movie. Every time I watch it, it will be the same. Yet the morals are now so different.
What about people? Are they never the same and always the same?
I can run into someone I have not seen in a while and I can tell they have changed in some way. Yet at the same time, they are just the same old friend from who knows when. And even though we all progress, we all still mess up too. We all still give into temptations. Sometimes the same ones, sometimes we find a new thing to tempt us. It's weird. Very weird, I think.
What about every day life? Is it never the same and always the same?
We do a lot of the same things from day to day. We wake up, eat breakfast, go to work or school, come home, eat, laugh, have a shower, go to bed. Then maybe we do it all over the next day. We fall in love. Fall out of love. Fight. Yell. Cry. Apologize. Forgive. Laugh. Play. Pray. Hope.
We are born. We die.
Yet as much as our routines might sometimes always be the same, every day is also somehow very unique. Very different. Events happen within today that aren't going to happen tomorrow. Or yesterday.
I don't know where I am going with this. But I feel a bit like a doll that my cousin, Megan, forced me to play with when I was a little tomboy. I usually had to be the boy and she was the pretty girl. Every time we played, the boy and girl fell in love. It was always in a different way though, and I always found a different way for my boy Barbie to be a jerk to the girl Barbie. Then Megan would tell me I wasn't suppose to act like that and I had to make the boy give Barbie a kiss. I usually refused. I was a little snot. Yep, I was. And I feel like being a little snot now.
I don't want to be a doll.