Change and other constants (that change constantly)

Transformation Tuesday: Canadian Thanksgiving

Change is indeed a constant—yet it’s not constant in any reliably predictable way, which I guess is what makes life interesting.

And hard.

Some change is dramatic…sweeping. Other changes sneak up on us. Some change still comes from very focused and deliberate work, when results accumulate over time. And other times, things change but they remain the same—like old friendships and the love they are built from, things that change and grow and get better over time. There’s nothing like feeling both the comfort of strong roots and the hope of new growth that will bud and bloom in spring.

Yes, change is a constant. But the only thing we can really count on is that something different (what?) (when?) is always going to be coming, that “something wicked this way comes.” We can’t control it, though we can prepare ourselves for it…to train our brains to adapt, to be resilient.

But consider when a snake sheds its skin or a lobster its shell, and the outside changes but the inside remains the same. A drastic external change, yes, but the mind and heart and soul? Still there. The insides, unchanged. Things look and feel the same, yet somehow everything different.

Sounds kind of disconcerting to me…because it is.

Some of my external “skin” (aka stuff, aka sh-t) has been shed of late…so to speak…as it were. As you likely know by know, I’m no longer actively and gainfully employed. I’m a free agent, and not by choice. But I’ve decided to go all in on the choice I do have, to embrace my free agency, and to make the best of my days. Yeah, that external skin falling off kinda surprised me…but 2.5 weeks later, I’m adjusting. My professional experience is an important piece of my life, but my job doesn’t define me. So while I may have been feeling a bit fractured at first, I’m feeling quite whole now—I’m still the same person with the same great life. Only without a job.

Anyhow, when life finds you with a little free time on your hands, you take advantage of it…which for me meant accepting an irresistible offer from one of my oldest and dearest and bestest friends to head away for a long weekend with her, her bro and sis-in-law, and another college friend, to go back to the magical place in Canada (that I first wrote about here and here after I went for a week in July). After summer vaca, when I spoke of how amazing and relaxing and all good things that it was, my mom commented that it sounded like I had been on a retreat. And in so many ways, I think it was like one, as it had so many of the replenishing, re-energizing, and re-centering characteristics that I imagine retreats having…only we could drink and curse and didn’t need to pray or do yoga.

There’s something I recently learned about (thanks, friend, for introducing me to it!), the Japanese art of forest bathing (more here if you’re interested). Forest bathing essentially is being one with nature, taking it all in. It’s got nothing to do with bathing, other than you bask in the glory of the natural surroundings. But it really is a thing, and so it’s no wonder that I come out of my forest bathing experiences feeling the way I do. It’s the fresh air…the colors…the sounds of silence…and the friendship…camaraderie…love…

The “forest”, perfect for bathing…

Anyway, because I knew it had healing powers, because I knew I needed a bit of healing, and because I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be in that special place with those particular people, the offer to experience a slice of what this beauty of a world has to offer was one I couldn’t refuse. I got up early on Thursday, met the carpool in New Hampshire, and we headed up and across our northern border.

The weekend did not disappoint.

It had been a long time since I did anything remotely resembling leaf peeping, so the ride up through Vermont and across to Ottawa then up to Gracefield was an eye-popping, jaw-dropping display of color…colors that are so vibrant and so vivid…colors I feel like I’m seeing for the first time…colors that have never been in a box of Crayola 64s. The ride home (different route) yesterday was more of the same. In total we’re talking some 20 or so hours of riding along (many country roads) and taking in description-defying vibrant hues—it was gorgeous and the long drive is completely worth it.

It was cold up there (snow flurries one morning!) but still we forest bathed indeed..we enjoyed plenty of time outside…walking around the island…on the boat…and we also spent plenty of time inside…by the fire…eating…drinking…laughing…playing cribbage…listening to good tunes…

Speaking of good tunes (as my tastes define good tunes, anyway), in the few days between when I was invited and when I left, I made a playlist just for the occasion…chill tunes that I felt were suitable to forest bathing and that would keep my heart happy and my heart rate slow.

We also enjoyed a lot of fellowship and friendship, and it seemed somehow exceptionally appropriate that we celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving together on Saturday night (a few days early—it was actually yesterday). We bundled up, took the boat up to the club, feasted on turkey and ham and all the fixings you’d expect, drank some wine, had ourselves a grand old time, bundled back up, and headed home where we had too many nightcaps by the fire. It made me beyond happy to experience gratitude in this way—we never would spend American Thanksgiving together, so it was incredibly special to be able to sit in gratitude for friendships that span decades (and decades and decades), friendships that have weathered distance and time and constant change only to come out changed forever, for better. I think that when you share the same core values with people, the foundation stays solid, unshakeable. And, when one is in a time of transition as I am, when I’m maybe feeling a bit forlorn about my future, well, it’s something special being with people who support you and believe in you and maybe even make you believe in yourself a little.

Over the course of the weekend, we saw electric trees, fire in the sky, and smoke on the water. See Exhibits A, B, and C below (all with some editing, because the pics don’t do the scenes justice, and this is how they look in my mind’s eye):

Exhibit A: electric trees

Exhibit B: fire in the sky

Exhibit C: smoke on the water

You need the brilliant blooms of summer for the explosive colors of fall…and you need the browns and whites of winter for those vibrant greens of spring…so much of life is seasonal and cyclical…the constancy of change…the predictable rhythm of pattern…but within it all, there’s growth…strength…love. And yes there is a ton of irregularity in that constant thing called change…and yes it does make life interesting…and hard…and totally f-cking amazing. This weekend, I was reminded exactly how amazing it is, and it also was a reminder not to forget how amazing it is, especially in the times when change may feel like a constant grind.

Before I wrap up I’d be completely and woefully remiss not to mention the continued support that I’ve been getting, and how much it has meant. There have been a few gestures that have been beyond the beyond…the obvious one having been whisked away for the weekend…but then there were the packages I came home to, the Panda Planner, the organizer for productivity, time management, and happiness especially for people who like to write on paper with a pen (that’s me, nerd alert!)…and some gift tickets for some local Trustees properties from someone who knows I liked to walk and thought I might enjoy exploring some new places since I do have a bit more time on my hands than usual…there’s beauty in the world, indeed…and there are some beautiful people in the world too. How lucky am I to get to experience both?

Being able to share this time with you each week is a gift, and I thank you for being here, for being my people. I hope you have a great week.

Love you too.

Reminder: there is so much beauty in the world.