I’ve always welcomed change. It was a huge part of my life for many years. Growing up, we moved almost every summer: new country, new school, new friends. A pattern that I continued after college, although I stayed in the US. To me, change was the norm. I was amazed by folks who lived in the same house, in the same town, and held the same job for years and years. In my world, a job lasted until you found the next one. Staying in one place for more than a year would be mind-numbing; I was always looking ahead, thinking about the next place I’d get to live.
Anyway, that pattern of constant change ended when I landed in NEFL. Maybe it was just time; maybe I was just tired. Or maybe I just found a place where I could be content. And for almost a year, I was. My life settled into a happy pattern, dating a great guy, working hard, making friends, an active social life in a town that I loved. I had no reason to be anywhere else. I finally started to understand how the rest of the world felt, how they could be content staying in one place forever.
Then that happy pattern dissolved. The former child of change was forced to accept change, against her will. And It hasn’t been easy. I just can’t seem to remember how to adapt and adjust. I can’t remember how to start all over again any more.
If you told me five years ago that I would be stymied by the need to change, I would have thought you were nuts. Now here I sit, longing for things to go back like they were. Wishing that they hadn’t changed.
I know time heals all. Hopefully, I’ll soon figure out how to forge a new path. Heck, I’ve done it so many times; why should it be so hard this time? (See earlier comment about being old and tired.) But six months later, I’m still struggling to move forward.
I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason, that we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be, that our experiences make us who we are today. But the last few months have sorely tested those beliefs. I keep waiting for the day when I can look back on this time and laugh, and understand why it happened, and accept the way things are. Maybe even find the good in that change.
I try not to wish my life away. When I waste a day feeling sorry for myself, I think of my friend Troy Allan, and know that he would give anything to have that day that I just threw away. (He’s been gone for a couple of years now, and I miss him daily.) But do those same rules apply to wishing life would go backwards, and that I could live those days over again?
I know I’ve made progress. But I’m my own worst enemy, expecting way too much of myself, and being critical of the advances I have made. If I could just see a little ways into the future, maybe it would help me figure out how I’m supposed to get there.
Some of the items on my list of things that I need to do (see earlier post) are learn how to welcome change again. Remember to be content with where I am, and what I have. Look forward, instead of backwards. Find a happy medium between a life of constant change, and a life of none at all.
I guess I’d better get back to tackling that list, huh?
Stay tuned, and see where I end up on this continuing continuum of change…