Most of us have also heard someone say, “It doesn’t matter how old you are. What matters is how old you feel.” We nod along, of course. But have you noticed that it is usually middle-aged or older people who say it? You rarely hear teenagers or young adults making the same declaration. Interesting, isn’t it?

It makes me wonder whether some of the phrases we use to resist change are simply convenient. Maybe they are the words of little snails afraid to leave their shells because something dangerous might be waiting outside.

Every change brings some kind of development, however small. Change allows us to see more, and seeing more broadens our perspective. We can compare. And once we can compare, we can choose. That ability to choose is a remarkable form of freedom. Choice creates space. It is the moment when we can finally breathe deeply and calmly because there is more than one possible way forward.

Of course, change often brings discomfort and uncertainty at first. Some changes may not turn out to be changes for the better. But even then, we learn. We discover what works for us and what does not. We begin to see how we want to live — and how we do not. But how can we make that choice if we never leave the shell we already know?

We often cling fiercely to what we call stability. But what is stability, really? A permanent job? A house we worked hard to build? A beautifully furnished flat?

We hold tightly to the things we have accumulated over years of hard work. We work ourselves to exhaustion, risking our health, our relationships and sometimes much more, all in pursuit of dreams that turn out to be mostly things. What if we changed that? What if we stopped postponing life for a richer future and started living now?

We stay in well-paid jobs that drain us because we know the salary is good. What if we changed that?

Maybe earning less could sometimes mean enjoying a warm blanket with someone we love. Maybe leaving work on time could mean a long walk with a beloved dog. Maybe a simpler holiday, lived with a smile and without a phone constantly in our hand, could be worth more than an expensive trip we barely experience.

Perhaps it does not always “pay off”. But perhaps it is still worth it.

Again and again, I have learned that the simplest solutions are often the best. Maybe sometimes we just need to let go — to release the air from the enormous balloon we have inflated with dreams of a better, richer future and learn to appreciate what is already here.

Change gives us energy, and energy is essential to life. Some changes are huge. Others are tiny. Tiny steps can still take us a very long way. A move or a new job may be a major change, but small changes can give us an extraordinary lift too.

Maybe instead of complaining all day, we go into the forest and smile at the trees and squirrels. Silly? Perhaps. But we would have to try it before deciding. Maybe one evening we choose a book instead of television. Maybe we replace scrolling through social media with sitting beside our child and asking what is going on in their world — what they are scrolling through, and why.

Change also makes us more flexible. When we see more, we notice more differences. Diversity makes us reflect. We try to understand why this new thing we have just encountered is so different. And then we realise that life can be lived in another way.

From there, it is only a small step to asking: could I do that too? Would I want to?

A flexible approach to life encourages us to make the best of what is possible now instead of catastrophising about the future. That way of thinking can make uncertainty much easier to live with.