I've been trying to write this "first post" for a while (it's intimidating!) and I've been trying to find the right words.
Change has always been a problem area for me. Just ask Kevin how much of a fuss I put up when we decided to go to Ludington, Michigan for CFV one year instead of the trusty old Rivers Edge Resort in Wisconsin Dells. When you're perfectly happy with the way your life is, it's difficult to give it up for something else, even if it will be better for us in the end.
I find myself in this period of transition, not only because of graduation and college, but also because of the significant changes in the absence of very important and loved people in my life. I don't think I need to try to convince anyone that saying goodbye to Diana was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And once in the aftermath, we're stuck in an area between the event and the future, where people say things get better. I wonder if this is how a caterpillar feels in a cocoon- half transformed and very vulnerable?
You know the old cliche, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"? I'd also like to believe that what doesn't kill us makes us who we are. (<---- Shamelessly stolen from song lyrics, I admit) What else are we made up of other than skin, bones, memories and learned lessons?
And once things do change, once we are different, what do we do with the parts of us that were once all of us? I can't help but wonder if I would enjoy life more if I just went with the flow instead of trying to swim upstream, against the current that rushes me into change. How does one make the transition between fighting change and accepting it?
Any thoughts? Thank you for allowing me to share mine *smiles*
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Changes
Posted by
Lauren
at
9:39 PM
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1 comments:
I think change is the only thing you CAN count on. Very dependable constant, change is. For example, I felt very sad leaving the building where my work was. We put a lot of time into it and I thought long and hard before I reclaimed some of my own furniture from the building. I wondered about how strange it would feel to come back to this place and not have it be "mine." I also secretly thought I might go back again, to the same space, if things didn't work out.
The Cedar River had other plans for my former office space and damaged it irreparably. Our hard work to make the place a homey space for healing little people, in the end, was rendered so much muck, mush, pulp and waterlogged heaviness.
We walk away from our normalcy or it is wrenched from our hands.
Robyn pushed Walker on a swing last weekend. Paul Cunliffe said "You never really know when that last push on the swing is going to come."
I know I said this before, but it's a good one and I'm attributing it.
Have you ever read Look Homeward, Angel, by Thomas Wolfe? That's where the phrase "you can't go home again" is from, sort of.
S.
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