By Jim Hunt
David Bowie sang those iconic words in 1971, and over 50 years later, they still echo with meaning—maybe even more so now. “Turn and face the strange,” he advised, and for many of us, the “strange” is getting a little more personal.
Lately, I’ve been struck by how many people I know are navigating major life changes. Friends moving out of the homes they’ve lived in for decades. Couples downsizing or entering assisted living. Families making difficult decisions about health, independence, and the future. These aren’t just logistical changes—they’re emotional ones. They mark the end of chapters that have been long and meaningful.
Just this past week, I attended a visitation for a longtime friend who lost his son. It was heartbreaking and sobering. No parent should have to bury a child, and moments like that bring the fragility of life into sharp focus. They also remind us that grief and change aren’t reserved for any one age or season of life—they’re universal.
I’ve experienced some of these changes myself. A few years ago, I had both of my knees replaced. It was a necessary surgery, and the outcome gave me back something I’d been losing, my mobility. But it also came with limitations I hadn’t anticipated. After rehab, I realized I could no longer kneel down comfortably—something I had taken for granted my entire life.
Whether it was playing on the floor with my granddaughters or crawling under my desk to plug in a cable, those simple acts had quietly disappeared from my routine.
At first, I felt the loss more than the gain. But over time, I came to see things differently. I could walk without pain again. I could travel, stand to speak at events, and keep doing the work I love.
The lesson was clear: change often asks us to shift our focus—from what we’ve lost to what we’ve gained.
But let’s be honest—accepting change is never easy. For many of us, it can feel overwhelming, even paralyzing. It can lead to quiet moments of grief and change aren’t reserved for any one age or season of life—they’re universal.
