If we look around at folks, we see that attitudes toward change are quite varied. Some of us like it lot—only we don’t call it change, we call it adventure. Those among us who climb high mountains in challenging conditions, those who set out toward a dream when they have not a clue about how it could happen, those who find current circumstances to be choking and set out to free themselves, those who simply enjoy novelty—there are many of us. You may be one.

I believe that viewing life as an adventure is our natural way to be. Consider small children. For them, everything is fascinating. They are natural explorers, natural adventurers. They want to touch, taste, hold, chase, build, destroy, try out everything. They are eagerly looking for learning, for newness, for experience. That’s our human nature showing up.

Like much of the innate wisdom we have as little ones, this love of exploration and adventure often gets trampled out of us, perhaps with good parental intentions, in the interests of safety.

But we can recover the delights of adventure in our every day, especially when change is afoot. It’s a matter of attitude. You and I can choose our attitude toward anything and everything. We know of many people who embrace whatever happens to them, seek meaning in it, grow from it, give thanks for it. We also know of people who resist everything, don’t like it, find problems in it, get depressed over it—whatever “it” is.

The quality of our attitude will be the quality of our experience.

I once met a woman who’d been through a series of pretty hard things: the aunt who raised her had died, then her lover had been killed in an accident, then her finances had a serious downturn, and then her beloved home—with years of antique collections in it—had burned to the ground. All that had happened in a three-month period. I met her just six weeks after the fire. She was radiant! So I asked her how her radiance could possibly have come about.

“Well,” she said, “a teacher of mine listened to my list of events, looked deep into my eyes, and asked me a question: ‘Is it the end of everything? Or the beginning of everything new?’ And I realized I had a choice. So I chose to see it all as a new beginning—and though I sometimes feel pain, I am filled with joy at the opportunities before me now.”

Can we do the same with the changes in our own lives? Of course we can! We can re-awaken what we knew as infants: that every “this” is a new adventure and we can treat it just that way.

But that’s simply a misperception. There are a lot of noticeable changes now, indeed, and they may be happening faster than they used to—it certainly seems so. Yet change has always been with us. In fact, the wisest of us humans have noted repeatedly that the only constant in human life is change itself.

Our bodies change from infancy to age. Our family configurations change, influenced by age, illness, travel, education, accident, births and deaths. Nature changes around us: the weather, the growth-and-death cycle of everything, and sometimes huge and dramatic natural events, like storms or earthquakes. Nations change. Forms of government change. Positions of power change. Ideas and religions change. Everything changes, all the time.

And yet many of us resist change. We don’t like it. We may be afraid of it. We want things to stay the way they are—that is, if they are currently pleasant. Yet we also seek change, don’t we? Our discontent drives us to something new. Our longing wants things to change, maybe inside ourselves, maybe in our circumstances.

Still, sought or unsought, change is not going to go away. So how can we maximize the good in our experiences of change?

First, we can relax a little and allow ourselves to be interested in the reality of constant change. We could, for example, ask ourselves over breakfast, “Hm. I wonder what changes I will experience today?” Then approach the day with simple curiosity.

Second, we can make peace with this truth: there are no guarantees. A telephone call can change our life. Accident or death can happen in minutes, with or without warning. So, we can practice approaching each day as precious and enriching in itself. And let tomorrow—or the next ten minutes—take care of their own.

Third, we can express gratitude for what is, right now. This very moment always offers us peace, even if it’s challenging at the same time. This very moment always offers us love, if we connect to our own heart. This very moment includes amazing blessings: what we have, what we enjoy, what we find beautiful. There is so much to cherish! And when we learn to do this steadily, changes simply bring more of the same. We only need to see them and appreciate them.

You might want to try these three steps for a week or so, to discover what happens to your daily experience. I guarantee it’ll be worth it!