We all want to be human. It’s the unlikable sticky parts of our humanness, which trouble us.
I want to be human. But can the process at least be tidy? (There must be some celestial 800-customer-service-number for this.)
There are changes going on in my work and life.
And here’s the deal:
One. Change is certain.
If you don’t create change, change will create you.
And, two. Change is thorny. While change can be enlivening and revitalizing, there is a messy phase.
The man who looks for security, even in the mind, is like a man who would chop off his limbs in order to have artificial ones, which will give him no pain or trouble. Henry Miller
(I should add that it didn’t help my blood pressure by beginning my day watching the early morning US – Slovenia World Cup match. A 2 – 2 tie. And a goal taken away from us. This, plus five cups of coffee, is not good for the heart.) (Note: I wrote this Friday, but was unable to post, because of travel.)
Some of you know that I write Sabbath Moment, a weekly email reflection. Until today, it had been free–no charge. Yesterday that changed. I sent an email to the current readers, explaining the change. Now, there will be a fee (or membership). There will be a one month process of change and adjustment. (This was not an easy decision, 9 months in the making, including surveys and the whole kit and caboodle.)
I love reading quotes from people who proclaim, “I love what I do. I would do this even if I didn’t get paid!” And it is always uttered in a captivating and magnanimous tone. It is enviable. Until you realize that the quote comes from someone quite well off, and the sentiment is articulated from the safety net of security. Not that I disagree. I too, love—yes, really love—what I do. And it’s not about the money. Really. Until the mortgage is due.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Change can be messy.
Why? Because I don’t like to look in the mirror. I learned that I was not prepared for the internal churning. (So here’s my “class report” after a day of churning.)
Change is difficult because. . .
It affects other people. And as much as I project the contrary, I realized that I didn’t want to disappoint. I was not prepared for this knee-jerk need to please, or that “responsibility” to make certain everyone is “glad,” or that feathers are not ruffled. Hadn’t I grown beyond this? What were those years of therapy for anyway?
(Apparently, my “change” made some people disappointed, uncomfortable, and in some cases, irritated. Let me re-phrase that, some people chose to be irritated. Not that I don’t understand their consternation. But I, sad to admit, let it get under my skin. But isn’t it interesting how difficult it is to own the fact that no one person can make us anything—whether it is irritated, angry, glad, frustrated, content, discouraged, enraged, communicative or intimate. It’s about owning our part. And our choice(s) in the encounter or conversation or relationship.)
I put a dollar in one of those change machines. Nothing changed. George Carlin
Change is difficult because. . .
I realized that I am afraid of uncertainty. What if it doesn’t work out? What if things go catawampus? What if I live to regret it?
Despair is always an option. Or. I can use this as an opportunity to transform my relationships and myself. Or, at least give it a shot. The clarity that any one of us will seek or experience (regardless of the change we are going through) is not from the alignment of the stars, or the lack of muddy waters. The clarity will be in the truth that we are—in this choice, regardless of outcome—at home in our own skin.
If there is something to desire, there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret, there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall, there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret, there was nothing to desire.
Vera Pavlova
4 Comments
Terry, Take a couple of deep breaths. I do identify with all your feelings in this post even though I’ve never been in those particular circumstances. I suspect we all do.
I experienced maybe 20 seconds of annoyance when I read that you were going to charge for Sabbath Moments, then realized that this is your living, how much I love Sabbath Moments, and how much they mean to me, and promptly became a Friend. Why should we expect them to be free, really?
For possible new readers who may not realize what a gift these are, a trial membership like software companies give for their software might be a good idea? I know I’ve bought software I might not have otherwise had I not been able to try it out. Maybe a sign-up for four three issues from the archives? Or something like that?
Change is difficult. Swim with the tide? ;)
Hi Terry..Been gone….missed the note on the cost to stay connected…please let me know what that is and how I go about staying connected…love today’s post….so perfect as always…wanted to share with others on my FB acct….but couldn’t like before??? Is that part of the change….if so…I understand. Hope your swim…gets easier as the day progresses!!
the best to you my friend,
always,
Paula
me again….I found the link to post to my FB acct…the brain is a bit slow today!
tootles,
Paula
So change … wish I had thought of looking here the last couple weeks, as I struggled with a big, nervous change of my own! For all the same reasons — not wanting to disappoint the old (or the new!), uncertainty (what if it doesn’t work out), fear of the emotional blow-back from those who are being disappointed, and all of the other emotions — even making the decision to change was excruciating, though I knew all along it was the right thing to do for myself and my family. I tried everything I could think of to avoid it (including avoiding making the decision on whether or not to avoid it!) It was impossible to just “go with it,” because of the fear, “what if I made the wrong decision?”
Then a wise friend told me, “make the right decision.” Oh thanks, I said, that’s like the advice I received once “Do the smart thing” (which was very good, because I am sure without that advice, my choice would be to find the stupidist thing I could think of and do that) — if I knew what the right decision was, why would I be struggling with this one? But that’s not what he meant — what he meant was “make a decision — because you have to — and then MAKE it the right decision, by how you proceed thereafter.” Change isn’t easy, I think, in part, because we fear looking back and wondering “what if I had not changed?” or “should I have changed?” But if I make a change, I need to be willing to give my all to the decision — and not look back over my shoulder wondering all the time if it was the right decision. No decision will be neat and clean; no decision will suddenly make my life un-messy and perfectly ordered. So maybe just making a decision, trusting God enough to know that God will still be there through and after the change, and moving forward knowing that fact is the only constant, is all that I can hope to do.
From what I have seen so far, that’s enough.