I turned 28 in October. And as the sunset of my twenties looms on the horizon, I’ve been reflecting on what I want to leave in this decade and take with me into the next one.
One topic that’s been heavy on my mind is change - more specifically, my relationship to it.
The last few years have served as a needed reminder that the only constant in this life is change. From our collective experience with COVID to my personal experience of moving to and away from Hawaii, quite literally everything has changed.
I certainly haven’t taken it all in stride - and I bet you haven’t either.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about the fine line between accepting and resisting change. Knowing which path to take requires both a honed ability to discern and a deep knowledge of yourself.
So, how do I (we) embrace change without letting it control us?
Becoming comfortable with discomfort
Reflect: If the only constant is change, how can I adapt to fluidity?
Attachment and change go hand in hand. If we’re too attached - to our ideas, to our ideals, to our identities - we’ll never find peace with change. If we never find peace with change, we’ll never experience true presence.
It’s one of the greatest ironies in life that the only certainty is uncertainty. One of the most important skills we humans need to master is the ability to be resilient in the face of change - especially when reality fails to stack up to our expectations. But it’s not easy. We are biologically programmed to chase knowledge, because knowledge is safety. To not know is to be exposed. To be exposed is scary. But it’s the kind of fear we need to run towards, not away from.
A personal example to bring this one to light: In March of 2021, my entire life changed. I traded my Seattle Apartment for a Hawaiian Ohana, my prestige job for an untested concept, my urban playground for a secluded oasis. And for a good 6-9 months, I was miserable. I was so attached to what I’d lost that I couldn’t appreciate what I’d gained. I spent a shameful amount of time living in a dream and feeling bad for myself for it — all because I was mad I couldn’t walk to coffee and there wasn’t a lagree studio where I could make “likeminded friends”. The worst part is that the change was my choice. I made a choice to rearrange my life for love, and then once the change became my reality, I couldn’t let go of the past. I was so attached to the notion of what my life should look like that I was utterly incapable of enjoying the good that was right in front of me. It was only once I made the decision to recalibrate my definition of success that I settled into Hawaii and allowed myself to love the experience for all that it was — not resent it for all that it wasn’t. Looking back now, it’s hard not to be angry at my past self for having resisted the place that I now miss everyday. Change means different. Different is neutral until we give it charge, and I became so attached to one vision of my life that everything that didn’t match was negative by default. By refusing to accept change, I lost time that I will never get back.
Change is inherently uncomfortable. That means that discomfort is also a constant. If we can’t become comfortable with the uncomfy, we become avoidant. Avoidance breeds inaction, and inaction breeds resentment.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be someone who sits on my porch rocker at 80 and looks back with regret.
So I am on a personal journey to become more resilient to change.
Tactically, this is what it has looked like for me:
Embracing spontaneity
More intentionally journaling on the areas where I am “stuck” or resistant to work through the emotions
Walks with no distraction (the only time I achieve true presence)
Leaning into the constants in my day that create consistency and predictably amidst an otherwise changing environment
Being a little bit less serious and making it a priority to laugh everyday
The intersection of adaptability and agency
Reflect: Where is the line between adaptability and self abandonment?
While too much attachment keeps us in a state of near constant disappointment, the inverse — being too detached or too “go with the flow” — allows us to all too easily become victims of our own lives.
There is a very big difference and a very fine line between knowing when you need to adapt to change and when you need to resist it - whether it be to protect your relationship to yourself or others.
Granted, there are some changes - the death of a family member, the loss of a job - that we have no choice but to accept. And I’d even go so far as to say it’s a moral imperative that we do. There are others, however - a strategy change at work, unwanted weight gain, a friend last minute bailing on something you were really looking forward to - that aren’t so black and white. We can choose to speak up at work, add more movement throughout the day, and follow-through on the plans alone.
As a self-prescribed people pleaser and perfectionist, I struggle with the advice that I have to adapt when I find that the bigger challenge for me is knowing when I shouldn’t.
It can be all to easy to make change a scapegoat for failing to take accountability for your own life. While I may not be able to avoid change, I do have the agency to influence the shape it takes.
I don’t want to be a victim of my own life. And while it may be (probably is) privileged to say this, I don’t believe I have to be.
Failing to speak up, act, or ask questions in the face of a change that doesn’t sit well with you is a one way street to resentment. We’re all familiar with the common trope of the ex-high school quarterback who couldn’t move on when the Friday night lights started to shine on someone else. You don’t have to be that person.
First, accept that change is a constant. Then, take accountability for your actions and acknowledge that they too can create change. It doesn’t only have to happen to us, it can happen because of us too.