Change. Inevitable. Constant. Challenging. Anxiety-ridden. Good. Bad. In my twenties, change came after hours of living in “what-ifs”. I work-shopped the “what-ifs” with every human being with whom I came into contact expecting a moment of complete clarity, when the clouds would part and the bright beaming light would light the way, shining down on me. I was scared. Scared that moving forward meant automatic hardships. Yesterday was the last day of my mother’s working career–she retired. She has been so scared about her next step, it gave me some insight into why I have always been so scared of moving forward. Additionally, my Zodiac sign is Cancer, a crab! Crabs who always move sideways until they are kicked into forward movement. I completely lived up to this reputation for years. Made several decisions by moving back and forth instead of moving forward. When I talk to my friends and colleagues about change, some believe that it doesn’t really affect them, while others admit it affects them in ways that are unpredictable. Almost every student who has ever walked through my door has trouble with transitions, some even have it documented in their official file.
After moving into my first home two Saturdays ago, I began to think about transition. What will come from this move? When will it feel like home? Will I always want to change pieces of this house? Will I always have plans and dreams about gardening in the backyard and visions of parties out there in the Spring and Summer? Will I glide through this transition unscathed with ease? I have moved 7 times in 8 years! Each to a different city and once back to the same city. Starting over completely almost every time. Those transitions were tough. I had to find new friends, new work, new places to eat, relax, dance, run, be. In the end, I always fall all-inclusively in love with the place that is my home, so hard in fact that leaving becomes really sad.
Ending this year like this, in my new home–pieces of which feel empty and pieces of which feel cozy. Looking back on the past three years, I am seeing the progress I’ve made in learning about pacing and being human and allowing myself the dignity to be human. Just a few years ago, transition meant depression for days. It meant that I lived in complete loneliness for days at time, feeling like no one around me could relate or comfort me. I used to have such unrealistic expectations for it all that inevitably I lived in disappointments. Today, I see progress because I am starting to see that all feelings good and bad eventually pass. All things are temporary in some ways and that’s not such a bad thing. I mean just a few weeks ago I had the flu, again in the same year and now my body is back to its original state–able to swim, dance, do yoga. Just last winter, I was struggling with insomnia–having so much anxiety about what to teach and whether I was teaching the right skills. Now, I don’t have these same worries or they are less frequent and am sleeping through the night. The gift I can give myself is the reminder that seems almost trite, but is actually very powerful: this will pass and then the next thing will pass too and that’s okay. It’s just life. No it’s the best part of life that eventually all things must move forward as long as you work at it. More importantly, I don’t have to define it all.
Change. Honest. Inevitable. Constant. Loving. Temporary. Permanent. Bad. Good. Scary. Fun. Exciting. Delicious.
