It seems to me that, in order to get by gracefully in this world, the most important skill that one can possess is being able to adapt easily to change. There is no stasis in this world. As much as we might feel it, there is actually little entropy for anyone who lives life with, at the least, two legs and eyes in the front of their heads. Even small changes: a friend gets a haircut, your poker night switches houses, you start going to bed at 11:30 instead of 11:00; even these little things can have a great effect on your life, and if you’re not adaptive, not willing to say to yourself “Okay, this is how this is now and I’ll just have to get used to it,” then even these tiny details can be grating, difficult, and ultimately destructive.
And when it comes to relationships, change is the dealbreaker. Or the dealmaker. My brother had to make a fairly large change before he could marry the woman he loved, but he did so, and gracefully, and so was able to move on with a happy and fruitful existence. My own relationship has gone through so much change of late — engagement, my moving to Montreal, my coming back from Montreal, building rooms, visiting friends, and starting new jobs — that sometimes I feel like I hardly even know which way is up anymore, and at times I just wish it would all stop. Where is that moment when, returning from Montreal, I finally get to rest, bask for a moment in my own happiness and fulfillment, and take a nice, long, deep breath? Where my deep, deep relaxation? As I’ve sought it out, I’ve come to a rather painful realization concerning my ability to adapt well to changes.
I don’t.
How did that happen? I always thought I did great. I always thought that I was the zen master of living a simple and uncomplicated life where the events of the world did not have the ability to affect my tranquil and positive state of being. Evidently, not so much.
But I’ve still got hope for myself. The next fourteen – sixteen months will provide me more than enough opportunities to, hopefully, get over myself and, in doing so, find myself again. I sound like a fortune cookie, even to me, but I know that there’s that core there, somewhere inside me, that remains unflappable. Perhaps I’ll find it. Alternately, maybe I’ll come to realize that being unflappable? Not so great after all. It’s the people that flap, that are sensitive and emotional, that live with great passion, that burn and seethe and cry out in the night their joys and heartaches. I’ve envied these people for years, but somehow I just don’t think that it’s the way I was built to be.
Either way: change? Yeah, I’m gonna learn how to deal with it and maybe, one day, to even enjoy it.
