You know what they say…the more things change, the more we wish they didn’t.
Or maybe that’s just me.
I’ve never been a super-fan of change. In fact, I’m more than fine with same-old, same-old. There’s something comfortable in the predictable. Even the mundane. I once spent the better part of a decade having the EXACT same thing for lunch every day. Did I mind it? Not in the least. Did it put me at risk for scurvy? Probably.
But change is no shrinking violet. It comes barging in, whether we invited it or not.
This year has been a change overachiever for me. The latest chapter:
This guy is graduating and going off to college.
I’m not sure how this is possible.
How will he survive? Who will cut his grapes in half? Who will read him to sleep? Who will tell him to brush his teeth? Okay, yes, it’s been a good long time since I’ve done all but the last, but it’s hard for me to imagine the person who used to call coats “come-ons” (because I’d cheerly say “come on, sweetheart!” as I pushed his pudgy arms into the sleeves) roaming the campus and discussing philosophy. (That’s what college kids do, right?)
It calls to mind the beginning of pretty much any good story.
The protagonist receives the call to adventure, which is at its very heart an invitation to change. Many times, this change is not welcome and the protagonist does everything to say, “No thanks, I gave at the office.”
Change invariably happens, however. The protagonist says goodbye to the familiar, takes a detour into new territories and, if things go right, spirals as everything goes wrong. Soon, the protag is over their head. They have to shift and adapt. They must give into the power of growth and possibility.
External change ignites an internal one. Which I guess is a good thing.
Oh, and the grad?
He made it by the skin of his halfheartedly brushed teeth since he decided to wait until the 11.5th hour to finish the final 65% of his one online class.
I’m pretty sure the experience shortened my life. I’d like to say I’m no longer a mom worrywart. But I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
Do you embrace change, dear friends, or try to avoid it? Do you have a favorite book that showcases a big change? For those who have chicks that have flown the nest, how did you cope (or celebrate)?