On Tuesdays I talk about transformation, and today is no exception. There are all kinds of transformation, all of which are fair game here. Be it personal, professional, social/cultural, meaningful or less significant, situational or general, permanent or fleeting…it’s on the table…change is all around us. Big, small, expected, surprising…happy, sad, or something else.
I’m not big on drama, but the fact of the matter remains:
Life is change, so sometimes life is dramatic.
For me now is one of those more dramatic times, given some change and uncertainty and all.
(Sigh.)
While I do find the so-called turmoil rather annoying and more than a bit disconcerting, I’m also ok with it. I know it’s a necessary evil of this thing called Life, a thing that isn’t all unicorns and rainbows. Life is a series of ebbs and flows, ups and downs, fits and starts, highs and lows, goods and bads…and it’s perpetually though somewhat irregularly cyclical in those ways.
Why is it, then, that people are so quick to fan the flames of misery and so slow to nurture the good? Everyone warns us not to be complacent, reminding us about the calm before the storm or preparing us for the other shoe to fall, but no one jumps up and down reminding us that with every storm the rain eventually stops. Which it does. And I know it’s true because if it weren’t, Little Annie never would have been such a famous orphan.
The sun…it’ll come out tomorrow.
If the calm comes before the storm, make no mistake that in turn the storm comes before the calm. Bet your bottom dollar on it; the calm is coming after the storm.
But people don’t often talk about that.
In the turbulent times we tend to feel like the troubles are never going to end, just as when we’re in the calm times, we often fail to fully engage in them. I’m not sure if it’s that we take the good times for granted or whether we’re too busy to actually enjoy them. Either way, the extreme states tend to consume us…but what about the rest of the time? For me life is better when it’s balanced and when I am feeling in balance. I know I am better off when I feel like the balance is in general—steady for the most part, with little variation or variability, also for the most part. I know that it can also be balanced overall when extremes net out or when seemingly manic highs and lows cancel each other out, but those big swings cause me some emotional whiplash. I’m much more of an “even Steven” kinda gal, whenever possible.
You know?
I’m not being deliberately obtuse here. Life is running more amok than I’d like and I’m currently unable to rein it all in, wrap it in a nice bow, and share with you how I’m evolving. You may have read this last week and if you have, you know…I have no job and no direction regarding what comes next. Beyond that, I do have health insurance (technically) but due to some clerical errors it looks like I don’t, giving me some extra administrative stuff I need to deal with (phone calls and payments and reimbursement and the like). I also had airport pickup duty on this past stormy Sunday, for a flight that kept getting pushed back. All headache-y, nuisance-y kind of stuff, all stuff that I tell myself is no big deal in the grand scheme of things. These self-reminders are one way I try to keep things in perspective and to stay balanced in general…vs flailing wildly about things beyond my control. But still…some big-deal stuff, some annoyances…all of which I need to address.
Sometimes transformation is slower than we’d like; growth takes time. Sometimes we feel the pain or weight of transformation without understanding the point of it all. Sometimes we have to passively wait it out and other times we need to aggressively ride it out. In neither case do we get to choose our approach and in both cases it involves trusting that a lesson will come in time. And in the meanwhile, we can’t force or accelerate an outcome. Gotta go with the sh-t, minimize the sh-t spray, and try to adjust our attitude on the fly, in the face of uncertainty and/or discomfort.
What is it that “they” say?
Embrace the suck?
Well, here’s me, embracing the proverbial suck.
(Heavier sigh.)
I mentioned last week that I know “they” say when one door closes a window opens somewhere else…but sometimes when a door closes it slams on your hand and it really f-cking hurts. That’s the reality of life, and IMO there’s no sense ignoring that core fact. Yeah sometimes a window opens somewhere else and yeah the sun will come out tomorrow and yeah I’m hopeful about all that possibility…but I’m also feeling a little waterlogged right now, and I need to dry myself out, a process that will take a little time, a process I need to be patient with, like it or not.
Facts are facts. These are my facts.
(Heaviest sigh.)
But they also are only my current facts and I know they will change and so too will my story.
When one is dealing with unpleasant facts and working on changing them/waiting for them to change, one must be attuned to what is happening but without fixating and/or projecting, one must process the experience, and one must take steps to address the turmoil. For me (a serial doodler), that in part means doing a little of this:
It works, but it’s also work to slow down, focus, and stay that way. But it’s also worth it. (Not-so-subtle lesson right there.)
All this said, it’s worth noting and remembering that sometimes we create needless drama for ourselves, a realization that in and of itself can help us moderate or temper our response to unpleasantries, trials, and tribulations. Consider the storm forecast that creates four or five days of extreme frenzy, only to result in this:
Given I had airport detail during Sunday’s storm—and especially given that the flight before my niece’s was diverted to Baltimore (!)—it would have been easy to get in a bit of a tizzy about that “job.” My sis (who was going to ride in with me, God bless her) and I decided we would just mentally chill until the plane was actually in the air. Once she was in flight and we had an arrival time, we’d mobilize. And guess what? We got to Logan in no time, the biggest holdups were the plane getting a gate and the bags getting to the carousel, the restaurant we wanted to eat at was open, and there was no Snow Emergency thus plenty of parking on Mass Ave. We had a great dinner, got my niece settled in for the Spring semester, and we had a lot of fun. I’m so glad we didn’t waste any worry on something that never materialized—we’d have been emotionally exhausted and unable to fully enjoy the awesome outcome, fun sister-aunt-niece time together.
Anyhow, I’ll stick with a flight metaphor to wrap this topic up for today, because it’s staring right at me. Life for me is a bit bumpy now. And like a plane in the air, I “simply” need to find a smoother cruising altitude.
I’m on it. I promise.
In the meantime, and to end with a more uplifting vibe, I’ll share what I’ll characterize as a weird/cool/inspiring story…if you believe there’s something greater than us out there:
Last week I mentioned that three of my friends had parents die recently, and one of the funerals was this past Friday. I don’t go to church regularly but this one was held in the church I go to when I do go, so it is a familiar space for me and thus comforting in ways that can come only from the familiar. I was with my mom, and we were sitting slightly left of center towards the back of this church in the round. Anyway, I don’t know when it started, but I know when I noticed…right at the time when they’re prepping the body and the blood for Communion and they ring those chime-y sounding bells that announce something to the effect of, “Come on down, Jesus…you’re not the next contestant on The Price is Right, but we’re ready for you at the altar,” That’s when I saw the ceiling fan, two sections to the left, moving ever so slowly. Like there was no way there’s a setting that low, no way a fan moving that slowly could do anything except maybe gradually run up the electric bill. I looked around, double- and triple-checking…no doors were open…all of the other fans were still. Was it a sign? Maybe…though of what, who knows? So I kept my eye on it, and it kept rotating, lazily. Then, at the conclusion of the Mass, just after they incensed the casket and nudged it on its way up the aisle toward its final resting place, the fan came to a gentle but complete stop. To me, this miracle of the ceiling fan was Bern giving us a custom mashup of the processional (“Be Not Afraid”) and the recessional (“The Irish Blessing”), him telling his family, “I’m leaving you now, but I’ll also always be with you.”
I have a complicated relationship with religion, but I felt some sort of religion in that moment, without a doubt. It was a profoundly spiritual experience for me, one that gave me a deep sense of peace at some soulful level.
As always, I appreciate your time and attention here, I hope that you’re living life at a relatively smooth cruising altitude, and I wish you peace in some meaningful degree.
Love you too.