Summer 2019, I stayed in a “tech hostel,” a massively shared house with over 20 people, including one guy living out of his car.

This week, I visited for the first time in years. What I remember most: “the same, different.”

I recognized the buildings in which I worked, the restaurants downtown in which I ate. Yet along the bike path, I witnessed alien structures, mystified by the hues of sunset and later the dark of night as I biked from the office to the hostel.

The buildings same, different.

I recognized a few of the housemates, who recalled how other housemates had moved on. Though, whose marriage and baby photos adorn the fridge? They had shifted in and out before I got a chance to meet them. And who sits in the shared workspace? Should I even bother to introduce myself (I won't stay too long)?

The people same, different.

Let's board the Ship of Theseus. Leave aside the metaphysics of identity, and step into the eye of the captain. Midway through the journey, you take stock of the ship: some parts replaced, some crew replaced. You know even you will eventually get replaced. How do you feel? Does the “same” bring you the comfort of stability? Does the “different” bring you the excitement of progress?

Actually, we aren't looking at the Ship of Mountain View. We are looking at the Ship of You. Because really, most importantly, you have become the same, different.