He changes daily, so looking at him is visualizing a continuum and not the snapshot of everyday life. Constantly realizing his evolution reminds me of how I relate to time, and its apparent flow.

Although he lives a different, more affluent life than I did, he’s on a good path. When I was his age, maybe I had a bike. I don’t really remember — but I surely didn’t have a job. Nor did I pay for everything I considered mine. He does.

Not that it involves me very much, but witnessing him brings to mind questions about how others handle themeselves. He’s imperfect, but I can only hope his preparation and work represent those of his peers.