Beginnings

As a student, I always looked forward to the first day of school. One of those students who couldn't sleep the night before the first day. As a teacher, and now an adult, I'm still that same way. But now I know it's because I like the beginning.
If I truly think about it, I've loved beginnings all of my life. It's only when something is in the middle or the end that I become frustrated. But beginnings are special.
For example, the seasons. I love the beginning of each season. I can't wait for the old one to end. But two months into winter, I want a new beginning--even when they are old. It's a new beginning for me.
Books--they are fresh, untouched, and smell like a new beginning.
Ironically, I don't like change. So how does one bring together the idea that beginnings are awesome, without integrating change? Can I have both?
Sylvia Plath's gravestone has an inscription:
"Even amidst fierce flames the golden lotus can be planted."
I know that Plath loved beginnings without change as much as I do. True beginnings require change. So how to rectify those two ideas?