Whether it’s outgrowing my favorite tee (because the Medium size doesn’t fit anymore), moving to a new condo, discovering a new cafe, ending a relationship, or changing friends, I have never been a big fan of change. For me, everything that has to do with change and all its complexities is stressful and often quite discomforting.
One might argue that more often than not we are in denial or oblivious to the change that’s constantly taking place within us. Hence, we get defensive when we hear statements like “you have changed” or suddenly see these differences for ourselves. We don’t notice it most of the time but it’s there, change, hovering over our shoulders like a deathly specter.
Putting teenage trauma aside, I understand that change is not necessarily bad. At first, you resist it but eventually, everything begins to make sense. Sometimes you move into an awesome if unfamiliar condo, find a cool and comfortable new haunt, and meet interesting people you actually really like.
Change can have positive outcomes, but I still find myself shying away from it. Most days, I fight to keep everything the same or at least as close as I can get. However, despite my best efforts, things change.
I change, you change.
You might be thinking “Resisting change is resisting growth.” A fair point to be honest, but I firmly hold onto the resolve that “change is change and growth is growth” just perhaps not mutually exclusive in some cases.
This in itself is scary - the idea that change can be indistinguishable from growth, but it also begs a lot of questions.
Is change a conscious decision, or is change a by-product of our ever-evolving universe? Perhaps a coping mechanism for everything going on around us.
I am plagued with a barrage of thoughts; could it be that change isn’t abrupt as a lot of us believe it to be, that one doesn’t just decide to change?
Could it be that just like a rose transforming from buds to fully bloomed, change takes place ever so slowly within the fibers of our being? And perhaps we don’t have as much control over it.
The more I have tried to piece up the perfect answers the more I am plagued with more questions, it has been a constant loop of overthinking.
However, as with a lightning bolt, I am struck with an interesting perspective. Maybe I don’t hate change as much as I’ve expressed, maybe it’s the expected abruptness that scares me, the external expectation that happens to be an off-shoot of change.
Change doesn’t have to be abrupt. Again, perhaps I don’t hate it, I just don’t trust change enough especially when it’s being hurried, “demanding change from people or situations is demanding patience from oneself.” It all makes a hazy kind of sense now.
Maybe it doesn’t have to be a transition from Ted Bundy to Forrest Gump, neck-slashing Chucky to friendly Ted, or Grim Reaper to a flower-dolling lovable cloaked angel. Maybe the change will be a lot less of a struggle if it happens ever so gradually.
I imagine being the Grim Reaper going from slashing 10 souls to 7 souls … to 0 souls. Ever so slowly, until every fiber within my being learns the act of kindness, love, altruistic affection, etcetera until I can lay down my scythe, lay down myself, and watch souls uncertainly, but unhurriedly find their way into the afterlife, a helpful pointer from my end every once in a while.