The Seasons of Change

Yesterday, at least three people told me that after rolling my clock back an hour before I went to bed I’d get an extra hour of sleep this morning . But naturally, I didn’t. And I bet you probably didn’t either. The body’s internal time-keeper doesn’t give a fig what our clocks say.

Nevertheless, I confess that I like it when people say we’ll get that bonus sleep. It’s such a hopeful way to look at change, forecasting the possible benefits.

Changes, after all, even changes for the better, are disorienting to us all. They bring the discomfort of having to adapt, to let go of a piece of our familiar world in exchange for an altered one. When they’re not for the better, they can drag clouds of insecurity and doubt across our internal landscapes.

But happy or not, change is one of life’s certainties. I keep a small rock engraved with the word “change” on my kitchen window sill to remind me of that. Not only does it advise me that the present is a flow-state, but it helps me keep my balance in the face of life’s unexpected turns.

It reminds me that sometimes change is rocky; life’s like that. It’s like a brook that meanders for a time, then tumbles down a hill into a whole different terrain. “Be like the water,” my rock tells me, “that achieves new smoothness as it goes on.”

I think about that picture. It’s not an instant smooth. Even water needs some time to adapt. But a new smoothness will come–and here’s the key–“as it goes on.” How long it takes depends on the size of the tumble and the shape of the new terrain. Sometimes we go through tumble after tumble. Yet the terrain always has its bends, and some of them open to a world of surprising light and relief. Remember that and just keep going forward. You never know what the next turning will bring.

And remember to look for opportunity as you go, too. Change unfailingly has a few of those tucked away. It offers new perspectives, but it’s up to you to spot them and then to paddle your way over to their side of the shore. They’re usually bright little bubbles with a glow of hope to them. And hope is a wonderful thing. It propels you in good directions. It lightens your spirit and mind. So keep your eye out for possibilities.

It’s like the writer and philosopher Alan Watts said: “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” I heartily agree.

Be like the brook, and flow on.

Warmly,
Susan

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