There was a time when I thought that being able to make such choices casually would surely make life wonderful.
It was a small thing, something I once admired from a distance, a kind of “minor luxury.”
But once it became something I could choose at any time, the freshness I had imagined was no longer there.
It made me realize again that what feels wonderful does not reside in things or situations themselves,
but in how I happen to perceive them.
From another angle, this could be called growth.
It could also be described as something simply becoming ordinary.
As experience accumulates, freshness fades.
That feels natural, and it does not seem necessary to assign any special meaning to it.
What remains is only the fact that some things dissolve into the background,
much like breathing does.