Sunday, February 10, 2013

A State of Flux


I talk a lot about change.  The willingness to change is something to aspire to, and the thing about change and growth is it is never finished.  I’ve had those epiphanies, the ones where you feel you’ve arrived, you’re complete.  What a joke.  Great growth yields more great growth, as long as we remain willing to assess, to look at our lives and see the places where we hide from change, places we refuse to allow to reach the light.  I have them; I like to think we all do (that makes me feel less odd, if we are all in this forever flux together).

The catalyst for change can be anything, can be a friend who inspires, a movie, a song, or other more tangible internal realities.  Nothing inspires change quite like misery.  I sometimes think that we run from misery too fiercely, instead of allowing it to be our cosmic compass pointing the way we don’t want to go.  If we faced that instead of hiding from it with whatever salve we can find (ice cream has worked for me in the past), maybe we would learn faster.  But in so many ways, I think we are all the petulant ne’er-do-wells in our own stories.  Instead of using unhappiness as a guide, I stared at sadness for such a long time, refusing to blink, refusing to see the beauty and wonder to my right or my left.  No, I had to see my life darkly, because that was where I felt more alive, more purposeful.  More tragically miserable.  I spent years trying to turn my life into a soap opera, when I should have been happy with the silly sitcom I was born to live.

I laugh more now—sometimes out loud... in public places.  And I talk to my dogs when we go for walks because I have a lot to say and they are a truly good audience for my musings (unless of course, they see a squirrel).  Lately though, a song has inspired me to assess the dark places within, perhaps leaning toward the unfaced demons waiting to be challenged.  Perhaps.  Because the thing about change is it is the constant, but timing is everything.  And knowing the right time is the real challenge.

Today, I give you the song that has me thinking of futures just beyond my grasp, the futures that can only be found by allowing ourselves to grow past the barriers that restrain our dreams.

I give you... Just Give Me a Reason by P!nk (featuring Nate Ruess).


“It's been written in the scars on our hearts
We’re not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again”

2 comments:

Cheryl Fassett said...

Great post, Julie!
I think ice cream is the best cure. :) I, too, have been facing changes and learning to look to the right and the left to truly see what is around me. It is not always easy, but it is proving to be worth it.

Arlee Bird said...

I'm continually changing and I'd like to think always for the best. Not always thrilled to have extreme change thrust upon me though.

Lee
Wrote By Rote
An A to Z Co-host blog